Brooding
by SeveRemus
Summary: Clint undergoes hypnosis to remember what he had done while under Loki's control and becomes unable to get Loki out of his mind. Meanwhile, Loki suspects he is being poisoned by Odin. Inspired by Mikkeneko's story, "An Eye for an Eye." Set after "The Avengers" but before "Thor: The Dark World." Explicit HawkFrost (FrostHawk) and ThunderFrost/Thorki. MPreg so don't like don't read!
1. Chapter 1

At first the memories Clint had of his time under Loki's control were hazy, veiled, seen as though through a fog, but as time went on he began to catch glimpses of clearer vision – moments of lucidity when he could recall every detail of what had happened – and he began to suspect that while in the capricious god's thrall, his mind at least had not been compromised. He could not have functioned as Loki's right-hand man, after all, if he had not had his wits about him. Loki had somehow managed to change Clint's loyalty without damaging the rest of his heart and soul. For that, Clint thought with bitter irony, he should probably be grateful. It allowed him to resume working for S.H.I.E.L.D. without having to endure too many rigorous psychological evaluations.

When he had first recovered from being under Loki's influence, he had been filled with too much rage at the violation to even _want_ to remember what had happened; later he had dreaded remembering for fear he would become paralyzed with guilt at what he had done, despite the fact that he had been rendered incapable of disobeying Loki's orders. But now, with the distance of several weeks and some mandatory (if half-hearted) attempts to open up and talk to the agency's psychiatrist about his trauma, Clint was growing more curious about the details of his involvement. He had put his knowledge of the Tesseract immediately to use for his new master; what other sensitive, classified information had he divulged to Loki? Though she would not elaborate, Natasha had let slip that Loki had obtained information on her through Clint; what personal secrets of his comrades had he blabbed to the would-be world dictator?

With such questions nagging at him, Clint Barton finally decided to undergo hypnosis therapy in an attempt to unlock his stored memories or, at the very least, to make some of that blurry haze come into clearer focus. He informed Nick Fury of his decision and was met with resounding approval; when he told Natasha, the reaction was more ambivalent.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" she asked, concern shadowing her eyes. "Once you remember certain things, it's not like you can _un-_remember them."

"If it even works at all, you mean," he'd countered. "I need to do this, Nat. I need to know how much information I gave Loki."

"What for? It's not going to make you feel any better. And Thor assured us that Loki would never be allowed to leave Asgard again – he isn't going to be a threat anymore. So why do it?"

"I... I just _have_ to," Clint answered, struggling to explain himself. "There's this whole block of time that I don't remember – not clearly, anyway – and if I don't get it back, I would feel like Loki still controls that part of me... even though it's in the past. I want to get back what he took from me. _All_ of it."

Natasha nodded at last, understanding his reasoning even if she did not agree with it. Clint would soon come to realize that she had been right to warn him against this course of action, but by then the damage would have already been done.

* * *

The first impression Clint had after coming out of hypnosis was confusion and disorientation. The hypnotherapist S.H.I.E.L.D. had assigned to his case gently reminded him where he was and why, allowing him to acclimate himself gradually to the present.

"Do you remember what happened after the incident at the Tesseract research facility?" the psychiatrist prodded once Clint had regained his bearings.

"Yes... Yes, I remember everything. Like it was yesterday." Clint licked his lips, which felt dry. He'd been under hypnosis for almost two hours, and he realized he must have been talking almost the whole time. "What did I tell you?"

The psychiatrist smiled. "Quite a lot. But don't worry – I have top-level security clearance." The older man adjusted his glasses and added, "I also have a sworn duty to my patients not to disclose anything we speak about here. Not even to our employer. But I can let you have a copy of the recording of our session so you know exactly what we did today. I think we broke through the dam in your mind, the barrier your captor had set up to prevent you from accessing your memories once you regained control of your faculties. You should now be able to remember anything and everything you wish to from that time. That being said, I should warn you... you've been violated. In almost every way possible. Even in some ways we humans had not known were possible before. You'll need time to adjust to your memories – at least as much time as it took to make them. So I'm putting in a medical order for a leave of absence."

Clint opened his mouth to protest but no sound came out. He had just had a flashback of green eyes, and echoes of laughter, and–

"Oh, God!" he gasped. "He _didn't...!_"

"I'm afraid so," the therapist said with a strained expression. "Your captor forced you to engage in sex acts with him."

Clint wanted to vomit, but he swallowed hard and put his head down, nearly to his knees, and gripped his short hair in both hands. He was seeing – no, _reliving_ – wrestling with Loki in a wide bed, getting tangled in the sheets as he scrabbled to unclothe the other man, who turned to him with a leer and a laugh as Clint's too-hasty hands tore the fabric of the silk shirt he was wearing.

"_My, my... What a beast you are in bed," Loki had teased with a cluck of his tongue. "I rather like it." _

"_Let me fuck you, Sir," Clint heard his own voice saying, thick and rough with lust. _

"_But of course. That's the whole idea," Loki replied, then languidly turned over onto all fours and spread his knees to make room for his lover/slave between them. As Clint hurried to undo his trousers and push them down, his erect cock leaking pre-come, Loki reached behind to place a slender finger at his hole. Clint saw a shimmer of green-blue that he knew (without knowing _how_ he knew) was magic: Loki was conjuring oil and preparing himself for penetration. As the memory replayed in Clint's mind, he watched in disgusted horror as his former self eagerly entered the orifice and began rutting like the beast Loki had called him. Clint could actually _feel_ his cock sliding in and out of the other man's ass, remember every nuance of the heat and friction, how Loki clenched his hole as if to wring out every last drop of come from Clint's straining cock, pushing back against each thrust to drive their union that much deeper – and suddenly Clint was coming, shooting his load into Loki's body, crying out with a pleasure more intense than anything else he had ever experienced. _

"_That was wonderful, my hawk," Loki purred as he sank down to lie flat on the bed, taking Clint with him. _

"No," Clint said aloud, and the way his hollow voice echoed in the therapist's room brought him back into the here and now. "No,_ goddammit!_"

"Agent Barton," the therapist's calm voice called, with just enough hint of authority to help him pull himself together. "As you remember certain events, especially the traumatic ones, you have to give yourself time to process them and... grieve. For you, it's like they're happening for the first time now. Let yourself be angry – take that anger out in constructive ways – but don't let the memories make you feel powerless. You have done everything you can to deal with your situation. In fact you've proven yourself to be braver than most by trying to unlock your memories, even when you knew they would bring you no comfort. You are not helpless. And you are most certainly not alone in this. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Clint finally answered, still dazed. "I just... need time to... process... everything."

"That's right. And if you need to talk, you can call me at this number... _any_time." When Clint nodded, the psychiatrist reiterated, "You are not alone, Agent Barton. You're strong; you'll get through this."


	2. Chapter 2

Loki lay curled in his bed in abject misery. The bright lights of his cell did nothing to alleviate his growing headache, and he was already exhausted from throwing up what little of his meal he had managed to force down to start with. It had been nine – no, ten days since he had last been able to eat a full ration of the bland food distributed to the inmates of the Asgardian prison. He knew it was not a coincidence that his trouble had started the very day his mother (or at least the woman he used to think of as his mother) had left the palace to help the orphaned children of Vanaheim in the wake of the chaos wrought by marauders. The fact that her departure had stemmed from events Loki had set in motion did nothing to improve his mood, either.

He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, as his stomach roiled with pain. It had begun the morning after Frigga had sent her last projection to visit Loki, informing him that she would be gone for a fortnight at least. As queen of Asgard, she was devoted to going on missions of mercy; she intended to ensure that each orphan had a loving home before she returned. Loki had asked her, in a fit of peevish jealousy, if she planned to adopt any of _those_ children.

"Of course not," she had answered. "I would have to consult with my husband before making such a decision, and at any rate my heart is full enough – and heavy enough – with the two sons I already have."

Loki had guiltily apologized for his sharp words, knowing full well that the queen risked Odin's wrath by meeting him through her projections when her husband had expressly forbidden her from visiting Loki's cell.

"It's all right, my dear. I know you're only upset because I will not be able to speak to you for so long," Frigga had serenely replied. "But remember this: the only time I was allowed to keep an orphaned child was when Odin himself brought you home – and it was entirely his decision to do so."

Loki knew she still wished him to believe that Odin had paternal feelings toward him, but he could not bring himself to acknowledge such a blatant lie. He had killed his true father in a mad quest to gain Odin's approval, but even that had not been enough to garner a kind word from the All-Father. Loki knew now that nothing would ever be enough – that he was nothing more than a tool, a monster which had been kept to be trained into a weapon but proven to be useless. Odin had sent him to the dungeons to be rid of him, once and for all.

Now Loki wondered if that punishment had not been enough, if the All-Father was not satisfied with merely having him spend the rest of his life in captivity. Loki had used magic to examine his meals – even the water in his privy and the air circulated into his cell – for any traces of poison, but he could find none. That only meant that whoever had poisoned him possessed greater magical power than his own, capable of masking the toxins which were making him ill. Odin was one of the few who did. It stood to reason that, if he had decided to kill Loki without executing him outright, he would most likely make it look like an illness. He would also wait until Frigga was not around to raise an alarm or, worse yet, investigate that illness herself and find its true cause. Loki was beginning to amend his theory, however, to include death by starvation – even a minute dose of poison could effectively kill him, though over a longer course of time, by depriving him of vital nutrition.

It had all started out mildly, with a slight upset that he could not get rid of and which he had attributed to spoiled or contaminated food; when he had induced vomiting and purged his stomach of its contents, he had felt well again. But the next day it had grown worse, and the day after even more, so that now the very smell of food made him retch. He had forced himself to chew and swallow the parts of his meals that seemed least likely to be laced with poison, but it was no use. The last time he had heaved, all that came out was a bilious green fluid. He had not been able to keep down a single morsel of food for five days. Even water made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

Loki closed his eyes and mentally counted again. Yes, it had been ten days since Frigga had left. If she were gone for a fortnight, which was the earliest she had planned to return, he would have no recourse for four more days. He could not notify the guards, for any healer sent to the dungeons would be incapable of finding the poison or ordered by Odin to ignore it. And it was far more probable that Frigga would be gone for longer than a fortnight. Loki struggled with the growing realization that he would either be dead before she returned or too gravely ill for her magic to save him – he was already too weak to even stand long enough to shower. Odin must have planned it that way. And it seemed he wanted Loki to suffer for as much and as long as possible.

In his misery, Loki pulled his sheets (the lovely, finest quality linens Frigga had provided for him) closer around his emaciated form and over his head. He would not give Odin the satisfaction of seeing him cry. If the pain wracking his body forced tears to slip out from between his tightly closed eyes, at least the damp stains would be covered by layers of material. The first few days, he had prayed to the Norns that Frigga would return to Asgard to rescue him from his plight; now he fervently begged for death, and soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint sat in his wreck of an apartment, contemplating the last bottle of beer in his hand. It was empty, as were all the other bottles of assorted liquor he had kept in his home-away-from-S.H.I.E.L.D. Alcohol had been the only way – or at least, the easiest way – to drown his overwhelming memories, and even that merely made him numb enough to not care about what his mind was revealing to him. He considered going out to buy more, then rejected that thought since going out required getting dressed, and getting dressed required taking a shower, and taking a shower required getting up out of his comfortable reclining chair. It simply required too much effort.

Over the course of the past few days, he had been reliving his time with Loki, trying very hard to go through his memories chronologically. The frustrating part was that quite often one memory would trigger another, similar memory; then another; leading him down endless rabbit trails of repeated experience. And he knew now that he and Loki had fucked like rabbits. A lot. Almost every spare minute, in fact. And, while he was under Loki's unique brand of mind control, Clint had enjoyed every minute of it.

The strange thing, though, was that Loki seemed to have enjoyed it just as much. Even though the mercurial god of mischief was more often the fuckee than the fucker, left with a sore ass and Clint's passionate bite marks all over his back, he had smiled in genuine satisfaction after each bout. His words now echoed in Clint's mind with a clarity that made the archer curse the day he had decided to try hypnotherapy.

"_You're really a good lover – you know that, don't you?" Loki had told him once while running the tips of his fingers through Clint's short hair. "You fulfill my desires in ways I hadn't even imagined possible." _

"_I'm glad to be able to please you," Clint had answered, at the time meaning it with all the sincerity of his heart. _

"_I know. And you pleasure me, too," Loki had said with a lecherous grin. "When my plans come to fruition, the Chitauri may rule the rest of the nine realms, but Midgard – your Earth – will be a haven of peace under my rule; and you, my sweet hawk, will be my second in command. As a Midgardian yourself, you will advise me on how best to rule your people. Perhaps I should make you my consort – that would help your people more readily accept me as their ruler, don't you think? If they know how I value and cherish one of their own." _

"_It's possible," Clint answered, "but I'm no expert on such matters. I only ask that I be allowed to serve you... in every way I can." _

"_Mmm," Loki murmured, a contemplative smile curving his lips. "Your wish shall be granted. For now, you may serve me by kissing me, my dearest." _

Clint had complied with alacrity, and his tongue had been engaged by Loki's with equal enthusiasm. Remembering it now made Clint's stomach twist, but there was a part of him that had to admit, Loki had been a good lover as well. The sensations he recalled from the many times he had reached his climax with Loki were far more powerful and pleasurable than anything he had experienced with a human lover, either male or female. As the last of the alcohol wore off from his system, he couldn't help but remember some of the other remarks Loki had made.

"_I know I can trust you, my hawk, because I've ensured that you won't betray me. You, at least, will never leave me for another – let alone a pathetic, mortal, Midgardian woman! You love thrusting that wonderfully thick manhood into my ass, don't you? Of course you do! You have great taste, my little hawk. It's no wonder that you hadn't chosen a mate yet – you were waiting for someone perfect for you; you were waiting for _me_." _

"_Yes, Sir," Clint had gasped, every nerve on fire with the intoxicating scent of Loki, thrusting into his welcoming flesh with emotions akin to adoration. "I must have been waiting... hoping... for someone like you." _

"_There is _no one_ else like me, my hawk. Remember that! Remember that I – and I alone – can satisfy your every need. I am the only one who can make you feel this way." _

"_Yes... yes! You are... the only... ahhh!" _

_With several cries of ecstasy, Clint came deep inside of Loki; and before his shrinking member had slipped out of Loki's slick hole, he could feel the demigod coming too, striping the sheets with his seed as he stimulated his own cock with one hand. _

"_My, what a mess we've made," Loki remarked, when he had caught his breath, directing a knowing grin over his shoulder. _

"_Allow me to clean it, Sir," Clint had offered. When Loki rolled onto his back and away from the wetness, Clint did not hesitate to put his face to the sticky mess and start licking it off the sheets. Loki had watched in indolent fascination, smiling when Clint lapped up a particularly thick pool with his tongue extended. _

"_You're a man of many talents, Clint Barton," Loki had laughed, then roughly demanded a kiss as he toppled Clint over and wrapped his arms around him._

What really irked Clint now, as he watched the whole scene unfold through his own eyes, was how he could actually _taste_ Loki's come in his mouth as though it had just happened. And to add insult to injury, his cock was straining against his jeans again, as it did every time he remembered one of their fuck sessions. Ever since he had unlocked his memories, he had not been able to jack off without thinking of Loki – of his tight and talented ass muscles; of his smooth, pale skin; of the way he wrapped his long legs around Clint's waist to pull him further into his body; and, especially, of the beatific and completely genuine smile of pleasure that lit up his face when he climaxed. When Loki had once asked him what position he preferred, Clint's answer had been immediate and unwavering: _"On top, with you on your back, so I can see your face when you come." _

Clint sighed and undid his fly to give his cramped cock some space. As he gripped it with his roughened palms, he swore and cursed Loki with every invective in his colorful arsenal. Then he called up the memory of a particularly satisfying fuck when Loki had cried out his name over and over while twitching and shuddering his release for an impossibly long time. Feeling the remembered tightness of Loki's ass around his cock, Clint began stroking it in time to his previous thrusts.


	4. Chapter 4

"Loki," a familiar voice called, but Loki was too tired to respond. He was too tired to even tell the owner of the voice to go away. He simply lay, unmoving, in his quiet cocoon, hoping that he would be left alone.

"Loki!" the voice called more insistently. It was Thor. Loki knew his brother would not give up, but although there was a part of his rational mind telling him that it would be better to answer the thunder god and get whatever Thor's business was over with, his limbs simply refused to comply. And the rest of his mind only wanted to sleep, to do nothing, to feel nothing – for to feel was to be in pain.

* * *

Thor had been asked by Frigga two days before to check on Loki, but he had put it off with the excuse that he was still needed on Vanaheim, though most of the marauders had already been rounded up. He had tarried, assisting the Vanir in constructing temporary shelters for those who had lost their homes, until Frigga had found him again and insisted that he accompany the next group of prisoners back to Asgard so he could look in on his brother.

"I worry about him, Thor," she had confessed. "I see a dark cloud over him in my mind, and I fear it will consume him."

"If there is a cloud cast over him, it is likely of his own making," Thor had retorted. He felt immediately guilty for saying so, however, when his mother arched one eyebrow.

"Are you sure it is not the storm cloud of your wrath he is under?" Her piercing gaze made Thor falter in his response. "He had discovered the truth of his parentage just before you were sent to Midgard, and yet he slew Laufey, his own birth father, to protect Odin. I do not know what words were exchanged at the Bifröst, but I can imagine what utter despair must have driven him to release his hold on life. And then when we found him alive at last, rather than welcoming him back as a long-lost son, your father – and you – assumed his purposes to be evil and challenged him as a traitor!"

"His purposes _were_ evil, Mother," Thor protested, "and he was found in league with evil creatures!"

"Yes, but did it ever cross your mind that he might have been _coerced_ into helping them?" The angry flash in Frigga's eyes had silenced Thor. "He was alone and adrift in a tear in the universe when they found him – what other recourse did he have but to throw in his lot with them? Oh, he is too proud to admit it now, even to me, but if he had refused to do as they say, what chance do you think he would have had to survive? Answer me that, my son, before you judge your brother too harshly."

Thor had hung his head, ashamed to realize that he had not even thought of Loki's situation in such a light.

"It wears on his soul to be confined like a caged animal," Frigga had continued after a pause. "Put yourself in his place, Thor. Is that not what I have always taught you to do? To think of how others are feeling? And despite his outward defiance and... seeming hatred towards you and your father, I know he would appreciate a visit from you. Talk to him, Thor. Let him know that he is still your brother. For I believe all his destructive behavior has stemmed from the hurts he has received. Think of the sadness you would feel if... if I told you I am not your mother."

Thor nodded, his gaze still cast down, so he did not notice how Frigga had suddenly grown pale.

"See that he has everything he needs," she implored him again. "A few books to pass the time, news of what has happened here... His mind needs activity, even more than his body."

"I will do what I can for him," Thor had promised.

* * *

Now as he beheld the small, rumpled mound of sheets on the bed, he could not comprehend that his brother was hidden under them; yet the guards insisted that it was so.

"He has not eaten for days," the chief guard fearfully informed Thor, knowing how inseparable the brothers used to be. "We tried replacing his rations at first, but it seemed to do no good, and he could keep down less each day. We offered to call the healers, but he refused, saying they would not help him while the All-Father wanted him dead. We did not know what to do... I had just consulted the chief of the night guard and we had thought to inform the king himself if his condition did not improve by mid-day tomorrow."

Thor considered what the man told him while observing the pile of white linens. Loki had not so much as twitched the entire time since Thor had arrived and repeatedly called his name. It had to be a trap. Thor sighed, for he was weary of playing these games with the trickster, but he had given his word to Frigga to help Loki.

"Lower the barrier for only a moment – just enough to let me in – and be alert in case he tries to escape. This could all be a ruse to get out of his cell," Thor warned the guards in an undertone. Then he stepped up to the barrier, nodded once, and walked into the cell the moment the barrier was dropped. It was raised as soon as his cape had cleared the threshold.

"Loki?" he called again, quietly, trying to keep his tone neutral. "The guards tell me you are ill."

Receiving no response, he drew near the bed, expecting his brother to startle him at any second. The deathly quiet and stillness was beginning to make him nervous; he would have much preferred to have Loki rear up at him with a snarl, even with a makeshift weapon in his hand, but Loki did no such thing. When Thor was finally close enough, he grabbed an edge of the sheet and yanked it off. It resisted for a moment from the weight of Loki's body, then gave way. What was revealed under it shocked Thor into horrified silence.

Loki was curled into a fetal position, and although he was wearing the fine bedclothes Frigga had given him, they could not hide his rail-thin limbs and gaunt frame. His eyes opened slowly, looking enormous in his drawn, haggard face, as he registered Thor's presence in the room. The recognition seemed to come too slowly as well, so unlike his usual lightning-fast wit, but what most unnerved Thor was the corpse-like pallor of his skin. He had always been fair, even pale, but now he looked like death itself.

Loki swallowed, the very effort obviously painful, and formed one word: "Thor."

Thor dropped the sheet and scrambled to get closer to his brother, gently pressing back his shoulder to better look into his face. "Brother," he whispered, his voice cracking in distress, "what has happened to you?"

"I've been poisoned," Loki managed, his voice hoarse from all the vomiting he had done in the past twelve days.

"I'll send for the healers," Thor said, recovering from the initial shock. "Guards! Send for the healers – quickly! And... And tell my father that Loki is ill."

A rasping sound, like a bark, issued from Loki's ravaged throat. "He... He did it – he killed me. As soon as Mother left. There is no help for me, Thor. Not this time."

Even though Thor could not comprehend what Loki meant by that, the hopelessness in his brother's tone gripped his heart like a vise.

"Do not worry, Loki – I will not let you die. I promised Mother that I would help you, in any way I could."

"Help me..." Loki echoed, almost in a trance. His eyes grew unfocused for a moment before finding Thor with a manic intensity. "Then help me – _Brother_ – and kill me. Kill me _now!_"


	5. Chapter 5

Clint had repeatedly gone over his activities of the days he was under Loki's control, sorting and cataloging each pertinent detail until he knew the sequence of events both backwards and forwards. He had composed his report for S.H.I.E.L.D. with exacting precision in spite of the distractions of his many sexual encounters with Loki – encounters which, every time he remembered them, forced him to either jack off or suffer the consequences. Since he still had plenty of time left on medical leave, he did not often fight the urge to pleasure himself while reliving the extremely vivid memories.

However, there was one block of time that was unaccounted for: it began at the end of a rather vigorous fuck (Loki had been riding him, straddling Clint's cock to impale himself over and over until they were both covered in sweat) and ended when Clint had started working with his hired mercenaries the next morning, fully clothed, bathed, and refreshed. There was not even a hazy hint of what had happened in the intervening hours; his memory was completely blocked, maybe erased, as though a laser had been aimed at that part of his brain to surgically remove that particular time frame.

That alone made Clint suspect Loki of hiding something from him – possibly even from the Clint who had worshiped the ground upon which Loki walked – and indicated that it would be valuable to investigate. Also, he had discovered a pattern to their fuck-fests: Loki had often plied him with questions about his fellow agents at S.H.I.E.L.D. during their post-coital pillow talk. Sated and relaxed, Clint had not held back anything (much to his shame and chagrin now), although it was doubtful he would have withheld information at any other time, either. But if the pattern held true for the missing hours of his memory, he might have divulged information then that was critical to Loki's plans. Although Loki had since been rendered impotent, Clint felt like it was tactically necessary to learn as much as possible about their enemy. And so he had called the hypnotherapist to set up another appointment.

"How are you dealing with your recovered memories?" the man asked after Clint had settled into the comfortable reclining chair which reminded him a lot of his own.

"I'm... dealing with them," Clint retorted, eager to get on with the task at hand.

"_How_ are you dealing with them, exactly?"

"I... I keep going over them until I know them inside and out. That way I can focus on the relevant parts."

"How do you deal with the pain?"

"Like I do with any pain: get through it. Shit happens – that's life; only the weak let it stop them."

The psychiatrist observed him thoughtfully through his glasses. "What about the sexual violation you suffered? How are you dealing with that?"

"Just fine," Clint snapped, then realized how harsh his response sounded. "I mean... it happened. There's nothing I can do about it now, so there's no point in dwelling on it. And it wasn't like he made me fuck him at gunpoint – at the time I wanted it just as much as he did. As far as getting captured by the enemy and being forced to cooperate goes, it wasn't that bad of a deal."

"Do you think you might have a bit of Stockholm Syndrome?"

"No," Clint replied, too quickly. "The guy is a certified nut job. Just because we had amazing sex doesn't mean I would ever support his trying to take over the world."

"Of course. And just because you felt attracted to him doesn't mean he had a right to use your body without your permission."

"I..." Clint faltered at the other man's choice of words. "Uh, right. Yeah."

"Because he did, you know," the psychiatrist continued in a gentle but persuasive tone. "You weren't able to make decisions like you normally would – he had forced you to obey him absolutely. So even if the sex was amazing, as you said, it was a violation of your body and your will for him to take advantage of you like that."

"Well, yeah, but... it wasn't like, you know, I didn't want it. Hell, if I'd met him in some bar and he was coming on to me, I would'a done him in a heartbeat." Clint surprised himself by admitting it. "He was... well, _attractive_. Hot, even. So it's not like I got such a short end of the bargain."

The psychiatrist nodded as though he had expected Clint's reaction. "It's all right, Agent – I understand. You're not defending him at all; you're simply trying to downplay the seriousness of what was done to you. It's a form of denial. You're a strong man, used to being in control, so it's hard for you to admit that you'd lost control, even in an extreme situation like this. But I need you to trust me that it will be better for your healing process in the long run if you can admit that it _was_ a traumatic experience. In your case, your mind had consented to the sex at the time, which must make it very confusing."

"I... I guess so," Clint replied, although he was still unconvinced. "But then, what does it say about me that if Loki showed up here again – without attempting to achieve world domination, of course – and just wanted to have mind-blowing sex, I would probably agree to it?"

The older man considered it for a minute before answering. "I would have to say, you feel more than a passing attraction for him, and even though you don't agree with his ideology, at some level you respect him as a human being. Of course he's not really _human_, but you must have seen something about his nature to compel you to accept him as a worthy lover. Perhaps you admire his strength? Or his determination, however misguided?"

Clint allowed himself a short laugh. "Yeah, that must be it. Because as crazy and egotistical as his plans were, he sure knew how to make things happen. He got the job done, too, and with style. He really wasn't as strong as he let on, or we wouldn't have been able to beat him, but he did have brass balls."

The psychiatrist smiled. "And that is a quality you admire – something you strive for yourself."

"Yeah. You could say that." Clint grinned, feeling better now that some things were making more sense. "I also always strive to be thorough, Doc, so if you could put me under and get this last chunk of my memory out, I would appreciate it."

"Of course. Let's get started."


	6. Chapter 6

"Five... Four... Three... Two... One," the therapist's voice quietly counted. "Where are you now?"

"In bed. In our hideout." Clint's responses were clipped and succinct as he answered through his hypnosis.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching Loki sleep."

"Why?"

"Because he's beautiful."

_He really is beautiful to Clint's observing eyes. The lines of Loki's face are softened by sleep, framed by his hair fanning out on the pillow, as his lips curve gracefully with the hint of a smile. The demigod had collapsed, sated and exhausted, after riding Clint's erection for the better part of an hour. Clint is drowsy, too, but he doesn't want to take his eyes off his lover's face. He is tempted to take the curled ends of Loki's hair into his fingers. _

"How are you feeling?" the therapist's voice prodded.

"Relaxed. Comfortable. Happy," Clint answered without hesitation, then added, "Possessive. Protective. I want to wake Loki up for a kiss, but I don't want to wake him up."

_Those lips that could smirk so sensuously are beckoning to him, but Clint resists the urge. His role is to please Loki, not himself. _

"So what happens?"

"I try to pull him closer without waking him."

_Despite being Clint's master, the taller man prefers to sleep curled up next to the human's body like a cat, resting his head on the archer's thick chest. Knowing this, Clint attempts to draw him into his rightful position, for he also enjoys the physical contact. Loki's smooth skin feels like silk, and if his body temperature is somewhat lower than the norm, Clint does not notice it in the fever of their passion. But as Loki's cheek rubs against Clint's bicep, the demigod stirs and murmurs one devastating word: _

"_Thor..." _

_Clint freezes. He knows well the hulking man owning that name, for he had watched him tear through a squadron of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents like they were insects. He had also watched all the footage available of the surreal fight between Thor and the Destroyer. He knows Thor and Loki are brothers; he is even aware that Thor was generally considered to be the _good_ brother. But he had thought them to be bitter enemies. The gentle, almost loving tone with which Loki has just breathed that name makes Clint pause his movements in shock – and a moment later he is filled with burning envy. Why was Loki calling out his brother's name in his post-coital dreams? Why was it not "Clint!" as Loki so often cried out in the throes of ecstasy? _

_Shifting uneasily, Clint resumes his efforts to draw his lover closer. It must have been a mistake, of course – he must have misheard Loki's mumblings or misinterpreted his tone. Perhaps the god was having a dream about conquering his hated older brother and gloating over him in victory. Reassuring himself with that thought, Clint presses a kiss to Loki's forehead while cradling him tenderly in his arms. Loki inhales as though awakening and murmurs again, this time in an unmistakably sultry and seductive voice: _

"_Give me a _proper_ kiss, Brother." _

_Clint's heart stops. Then it begins thudding painfully. There is no denying or explaining away what he has just heard. In fact Loki had demanded the same thing of him on more than one occasion, though with a more appropriate appellation. Swallowing, Clint releases his hold on the other man and clenches his fists. Rage and jealousy tears through his chest but he cannot take it out on Loki. He finally manages to extricate his limbs from Loki's and rolls over to the edge of the bed, where he sits up and stares at nothing. _

_After a while, Loki stirs, missing his lover's warmth, and rouses himself. _

"_What is the matter, my dearest?" he asks. "Come back to bed." _

_Clint struggles, unsure whether questioning Loki would be treason or not. But he needs answers, so he carefully says, "A moment ago, you called me your brother." _

_There is only the briefest pause before Loki answers with calculated carelessness, "Well, of course – we are brothers in arms, are we not?" _

_The deception makes Clint's rage burn hotter, but he is still unable to direct it at Loki. _

"_You called me _'Thor.'_" _

_The pause this time is longer, more significant. It is only broken when Loki sighs and sits up. He moves close to Clint and tentatively places his slender fingers upon the archer's well-defined shoulders. _

"_I'm sorry." The sincerity in his quiet words is palpable. "I must have been dreaming of... well... when I was much younger." _

"_You _slept_ with him?" Clint asks, incredulous. He wants to hear Loki deny it, to give some reason why it was not what it seemed. His blood runs cold when he is disappointed. _

"_Yes," Loki answers heavily. "Although we are not related at all, at the time we did not know it. When Thor began to suffer his manly urges, I was little more than a child – naïve enough to believe him when he said he loved me, though in reality I was only convenient. But I let him use me. I would have done... absolutely _anything_ for him then." _

_Clint cannot hide his horror, nor does he try to. He turns to face Loki, half-formed words ready to flow from his lips, but the haunted look in his lover's eyes stop them cold. He has never seen the demigod seem so vulnerable, so... _fragile_. He wants to embrace Loki and promise to protect him from everything and everyone – even his powerful brother – but Loki is not done speaking, so Clint listens, as is his duty. _

"_It did not last long. I hid us with my magic, but my spells tended to fall apart when I reached my release. A few months after we had started meeting in hidden corners of the palace, Heimdall saw us coupling and told the All-Father, who strictly forbade us from engaging in such activities again. Thor, like a good son, was willing to obey – after all, he soon found that any tavern wench or scullery maid would succumb to his crude advances! But I... I had no desire for women... and other men despised me for not being a mindless warrior like my brother... so I was left with nothing but memories and longings for what I could not have." _

_Loki purses his lips and casts his eyes down, letting his hands slip from Clint's back. Clint seizes this moment to gather his lover into his arms, clambering onto the bed and making Loki sit upon his thighs. _

"_I would kill him for you if I could," he whispers fiercely into Loki's ear, his arms wrapped tightly around the other man. "He should not have abused you – his own brother! – when you were so young. He deserves to die in the most painful, humiliating, dishonorable way possible!" _

"_Oh, my fierce hawk," Loki says as another sigh, perhaps of resignation, slips past his lips. "How it soothes my soul to hear you... and torments it as well. For I still desire my erstwhile brother... as perverse as that may be. There was no other who had cared for me as well... until I met you, my dearest." _

_Clint is mesmerized when Loki's green eyes seek out his own, captivating him with unspeakable tenderness and also sadness. The god's cool fingers stroke a delicate line down Clint's rugged cheek, sending tendrils of emotion curling down into his chest. _

"_You make me happy... in ways my brother never could," Loki tells him. "I know you will never betray me or leave me, and as long as you are with me, I am yours – heart, soul, and body. Do with it what you will." _

"_My master... and my god," Clint says fervently between placing kisses on Loki's throat, tasting that smooth, flawless skin as though it were ambrosia. "I love you!" _

_Loki starts at the impulsive declaration, then begins to tremble. Before Clint can finish adoring his neck, the god of lies and mischief is weeping like a child in his arms. _

"_Have I done something wrong, Sir?" Clint asks anxiously. _

"_No... No, of course not! You are my... _perfect_ lover," Loki gasps out between wracking sobs. "Hold me!" _

_Clint obeys the command well, since there is nothing else he would rather do. When Loki grows calm, they make love again – Loki watching with red-rimmed eyes as Clint moves above him, thrusting slowly and deliberately into his body, a long leg held up in each arm – then they fall into peaceful slumber together. _

_In the morning they relieve their need by sliding their naked cocks against each other, Clint setting the pace for this as well. They shower, Clint washing his lover with care and attentiveness, before they eat a hasty breakfast. As Clint prepares to command his men for the day's tasks, Loki leans in to kiss him on the mouth and places the point of his scepter on Clint's chest. _

"_I'm sorry you won't remember any of this," Loki says with a sad smile. _

"_Why, Sir? What have I done wrong?" Clint asks, somewhat panicked and confused. _

"_Nothing, my dearest hawk. But even though you will never betray me, some truths are too dangerous to be left guarded only by a mortal mind." He kisses Clint again – a soft, lingering kiss. "I'm sorry, my love. But I will treasure your words for as long as I live." _

_The scepter flashes a brilliant blue, and the next thing Clint remembers is walking into a room filled with his mercenaries. He knows exactly what to do, so the gap in his memory does not trouble him._


	7. Chapter 7

When Thor flatly refused to kill Loki, assuring him that the healers would make him well again, Loki wished he still had the strength to berate his brother for being such an obstinate fool. But since he did not, Loki merely whispered, "Mother," and Thor shouted for the guards to send word immediately to Frigga on Vanaheim. Loki was certain that he would not live for much longer; he wanted to see the queen's kind face one last time before he succumbed to the inevitable. He allowed his eyes to drift shut, only to have Thor shake him (rather roughly) awake. At any other time, the panicked look on his brother's face would have been gratifying, but right now he was too exhausted to feel much of anything.

"Stay with me, Loki," Thor kept repeating. "Stay with me, Brother. You will get through this!"

Two healers arrived and were let into the cell. The woman, a chief healer whom Loki vaguely recognized, asked him to lie on his back. As Loki struggled to comply, his body aching and protesting the movement, Thor carefully lent his aid and continued to hold Loki's limp hand even after he had been repositioned. When she finished a cursory check of his condition, the healer had her assistant start an infusion of nutrient-laden fluids into Loki's veins while she scanned his body with more intricate measures.

"What is wrong with him?" Thor demanded, although it was much too early for answers. "Has he been poisoned?"

"That is certainly a possibility," the healer said without turning her attention from the image of Loki's circulatory system.

"Venom." Loki's voice was so faint that Thor had almost missed it. The healer, however, had not, and she turned a shrewd look upon her patient.

"That would be harder to trace, of course. We will search for it thoroughly."

Loki made a sound that might have been a grunt of affirmation or a snort of derision – Thor could not be sure. It worried him to hear Loki's labored breathing and slight flinches of pain, but as the infusion began to saturate his body, he could see some color returning to his brother's skin. Loki was still pale but at least not deathly so.

"What is the matter?" came the commanding voice of Odin from outside the cell. "Has he tricked you all into believing he is ill?"

"This is no trick, Father!" Thor protested. "He has been poisoned. We must find the culprit at once!"

Odin questioned the chief healer with a glance.

"It is possible. We have not yet determined the cause, but he was severely dehydrated and malnourished when we arrived," she reported.

Loki cleared his throat, the effort costing him what little color had returned to his cheeks, but he managed to string together a sentence: "The spiked rock serpent of Haldos has venom that causes nausea, abdominal cramping, and painful swelling of the joints." He turned to look Odin in the eye, his expression baleful and accusing, as he added, "There is no antidote."

"No!" Thor gasped, looking to the healer for confirmation. Her grim countenance made his heart falter.

"That is consistent with his symptoms. We will look for it, as well as other poisons that would cause them."

Loki turned his gaze back up to the ceiling with a sardonic grin that was more a grimace.

"_As if they would actually find it when Odin himself has ordered its use... and has come to see his handiwork completed..." _

Before he wallowed in his misery much longer, however, there was a flurry of activity at the end of the hallway. Frigga came rushing down the stairs, several soldiers trailing behind in a vain attempt to overtake her. Odin, not having realized that Thor had sent her word, stepped forward to greet her but was met instead by her cold fury.

"My child is dying and you would keep me from going to him?!" she demanded, not breaking her stride as she approached the cell. Although he had intended no such hindrance, Odin wisely held his tongue while she brushed past him. The guard at the controls for the shield nearly became the next object of her wrath when he fumbled to lower the barrier. She strode in and bent over Loki, concern etching the few lines in her face deeper as she took his free hand and studied the healer's projection of his digestive tract. "Don't worry, my dearest," she murmured near Loki's ear. "We will find the cause of this, I promise. I will not let you suffer any longer."

She ordered some herbs to ease his pain and stroked his pallid cheek, all the while observing the chief healer's progress. Loki gazed up at her silently, his lips pulled into a tight, thin line. The infusion was doing its work, helping him regain some strength, so the next time Frigga turned to him he whispered a plea.

"Please, Mother... let me go. Whether to the halls of Valhalla or Hel, I do not know, but I beg you to release me from this torment."

"Loki! Dearest, you speak foolishly – of course you will go to Valhalla when you die, but that day is not yet come. You will recover, my child, once the healers find the source of your illness."

"Venom," Loki repeated, the word coming out as a tired sigh. "Haldosian rock serpent."

Frigga blanched. She knew there was no antidote for that. Her piercing gaze, directed at the healer, was only half hopeful of finding denial. The healer gave what answer she could.

"We have not found any traces of it... yet. It is a notoriously difficult toxin to find in a body."

"The symptoms... do they fit?" Frigga asked, her voice brittle.

"Of course they fit," Loki spouted out, with almost a laugh. "I've had a long time... to consider the matter. It's the only cause... that fits so perfectly."

"But Loki," Frigga said, combing his tumbled hair back from his forehead, "you were hale and well when I last saw you! Even such a venom would not explain how thin you have become in so short a time." She pressed her trembling lips together for a moment, stroking her son's emaciated arm.

"I know. Perhaps a parasite." Loki drew another labored breath before continuing, "The Numorsian wyrm has minute larvae that feed upon its host... causing nausea until the host can no longer feed itself... but the larvae grow by absorbing nutrients from its living flesh. They attach themselves to the lining of the small intestine," he added for the benefit of the healers. The chief healer looked insulted, as well she might, but wordlessly magnified the projection of his small intestine.

"Wait, so... you think you were both poisoned _and_ infected?" Thor asked, his brows furrowed in outrage.

"Those two combined... would bring about these symptoms... very nicely," Loki stated, his attempt at sarcasm falling flat. "And if either one failed, the other would suffice... to finish the job." He turned his head slightly to see Odin's reaction, but the All-Father did not so much as twitch a muscle. Frigga, however, saw where Loki's gaze had fallen.

"For shame, Loki! Do you truly think your father would wish to kill you? Do you really think so meanly of us?" she scolded. "If your king had wanted you dead, you would not be in this cell at all but already executed and sent to the next realm!"

Loki's expression was resigned, as though he knew the truth of the matter but also realized that he could make no one else comprehend it. Frigga was furious, but she contented herself with straightening Loki's nightshirt, while Thor glanced in horror at his father, then back at his brother.

"We've found something," the chief healer announced, interrupting the tense silence. She magnified the discovered object's projection even further, revealing a creature with a large, bulbous head and enormous eyes, ill-formed limbs, and what seemed to be a tail curled around its bottom.

Frigga gasped as she studied it. "This is no parasite," she cried. "This is a _child!_"


	8. Chapter 8

Clint had been cleaning his apartment with a vengeance ever since his last hypnotherapy session. He needed to focus his energy on something productive before the roiling morass of his emotions burst out with destructive force. He was angry at Thor for what he had done to Loki; angry at Odin for allowing such a thing to happen under his supposedly watchful eye; and angry at Loki (now that he was free to be) for still yearning for his brother who had taken advantage of him.

He was also saddened to find out the truth behind Loki's motives, for he now realized that his former captor had been seeking recognition and power as a substitute for love. Loki had attempted to control Clint, and others, to ensure that none of them would reject him, abandon him, and leave him with gaping emotional wounds like Thor had before; he had also sought fame (or notoriety) to bolster his damaged self-confidence. The fact that the seemingly callous demigod had broken down in tears at the mere whisper of love told Clint how desperately lonely Loki must have been – and must still be, alone in his prison cell with no one to visit him or cast a kind word on him.

"_If he'd had someone to love him – really _love_ him – he wouldn't have had to do all those things. He wouldn't have had to prove his self-worth if someone else had affirmed it for him." _

Clint set the last of the trash bags outside his apartment door, holding it steady to balance it on top of the pile of others. He'd been haunted by the vivid memory of Loki sobbing and trembling in his arms, which replayed itself at odd moments until he could almost feel Loki's slender body against his own again.

"_He was so grateful to be loved, even by the mindless robot he'd turned me into,"_ Clint thought to himself, heaving a sigh. He ached to think of Loki's isolation, both then and now. _"So grateful that he let all his feelings out, then had to erase my memory of them, even though he knew I would never betray him."_

Taking a step back to survey the small army of garbage bags now lined up in the hallway, Clint had an epiphany.

"_No – he wasn't crying because he was happy to be loved by an automaton; he was crying because the _only_ person who loved him was an automaton!" _

Stricken, Clint continued to stare at the bags while he recalled Loki's every look and gesture that night.

"_He was miserable... knowing that nobody would love him of their own free will... After all, how pathetic is that? _That's_ why he erased my memory – because he was too proud to let me know. He couldn't stand to let anybody know how pathetic and lonely he really was... how unlovable he must have felt..." _

Clint could relate to loneliness. He could relate, all too painfully, to being rejected. And he could practically taste Loki's pain at having nobody else to rely on. Clint had survived and made his own way until he had joined S.H.I.E.L.D., which had given him a purpose and a sense of belonging. Loki had found his own purpose in trying to subjugate an entire planet; he had created his own safe circle of friends – his family, of sorts – by brainwashing a select few of his slaves. Despite their differences, Clint realized, they were both survivors; they had both striven to procure what they needed in order to live.

He was interrupted from his musings by light footsteps coming up the stairs. He recognized them at once and had barely turned to see her before the words, "Hey, Nat," left his lips.

"Clint," she responded, eyeing him cautiously. "How are you doing?"

"All right," he said with a shrug. "Just getting caught up on some spring cleaning. From like, the last five years or so."

"No kidding." Natasha waited for a moment before asking, "So... how did it go?"

"It worked. I remember everything now." Clint grimaced. "Why don't you come in? I just stocked up on some beer."

She followed him into the apartment and took a look around. "Wow. I've never seen this place so clean."

"Amazing what some forced time off can do," Clint said blandly while pulling two bottles out of the fridge. Natasha sat on the couch and accepted hers, then Clint sat in his reclining chair. They sipped at their drinks silently for a while.

"You were right, you know," he began. "Now that I remember stuff, I can't _un-_remember it. But it's okay. I'd rather live with my regrets than with not knowing."

She nodded. "How are you doing with the regrets?"

Clint made a face. "About as good as you can expect, I guess. The past is the past. I just have to move on."

"Yeah. Not like you can change anything now."

"Exactly." Clint took another swig of beer before confessing, "What bothers me more is what I _don't_ regret."

Natasha studied his face. "What do you mean?"

Clint swallowed and stared at the floor. "There's no easy way to say this..." He took another drink, wishing it were something stronger. "When I was being mind-controlled by Loki, I... well, _we_... we were actually—"

"Oh _God!_" Natasha burst out, intuitively sensing what he was trying to say. "You don't mean to tell me...?!"

"'Fraid so."

"With _Loki?!_"

"Yeah."

"And... that's the part you _don't_ regret?"

"Yeah." Clint wondered whether it was a blessing or a curse to have a friend so perceptive. "Crazy, right?"

"Yeah. Crazy." The stunned look on her face said it all.

"Look, it's nothing personal," Clint tried to explain. "I had my loyalty switch turned 180 degrees around so that everything he said sounded like gospel truth. I probably would've turned over my own mother – if I had one. So when he told me to sleep with him, I... I didn't refuse."

"And you don't regret it." Natasha's voice was flat, lifeless.

"I don't," Clint confirmed. "It was... well, _he_ was... amazing. And now that I remember everything – and there was stuff I had to dig deep to get at – I understand him. I'm not excusing what he did or anything, but... there are some very good reasons why he turned out the way he did." Clint sighed. "I just wish I'd known them while I was with him... because I would have done some things differently."

"Like what?" she asked, although she was too shocked to be genuinely interested in his response.

"Like laughing at the gag Thor put on him before taking him home." Clint's eyes were remorseful as the event replayed itself in his mind. "He noticed that we were making fun of him... and his shoulders sagged. In all the time I knew him, that was the first time he looked really... _defeated_. He could handle losing – he'd probably lost fights with his brother any number of times before – but being mocked... that hurt. Sure, he must've been hurt before, but... you don't get over being hurt. Not easily, anyway."

Natasha observed her former partner's expression. "You're serious, aren't you? You really... _care_ about Loki."

Clint nodded. "I know what you're thinking: classic Stockholm Syndrome, right? And maybe that's a part of it, but what really changed my mind about him was the memory he'd suppressed even while I was under his control. He didn't want me to know, even then, how lonely he was. And it just makes me wonder... if someone had cared about him – really _cared_ about him – how different of a person he might have been."

"Wow." It was all Natasha could manage to say.

"Yeah. Crazy." Clint finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table.

"So... what now?" Natasha asked after a few minutes. Clint shrugged again.

"Nothing. He's locked up in a prison cell in Asgard for all eternity, as far as we're concerned. So I just have to move on."

"You okay with that?"

Clint considered the question carefully.

"No. Not really."

Natasha nodded and took another sip of beer. She didn't want it anymore, but it gave her something to do.

"Tell Fury," Clint finally said, "I'm as ready for duty as I'll ever be. A bit worse for wear, but I want to get back to work. I need something to do. And my apartment's as clean as I can get it."

Natasha stood to leave. "I'll let him know. Thanks for the drink," she said, then went to the small kitchen to dump the remaining three-quarters of the beer in the sink. Before stepping out the apartment door, she turned to ask one last question – even though she was pretty confident that she already knew the answer.

"Clint... do you think you love him?"

"Yeah," the answer floated back to her from the reclining chair. "It's the big 'L' – always makes things so damn difficult."

Natasha closed the door quietly, then fled back to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.


	9. Chapter 9

"_What?!_" Loki shrieked, his voice an octave higher than normal. "A... A _child?_ B-But that's _impossible!_" He looked wildly back and forth between his mother and the healer. Both women were scrutinizing the projected image and, apparently, coming to the same conclusion. "How can there be a _child_ in me?" Loki continued, his breathing turning ragged as his heart rate (visible as throbbing in the projected arteries) sped up. "It's just not possible! _Is_ it?!"

Frigga pursed her lips for a moment before answering quietly, "Loki, dearest... we know very little about Jötun physiology. It may very well be that all Jötun males carry their young, or perhaps a select few are able to when certain conditions are met."

The chief healer was startled to hear the queen's explanation, but she remembered her place and continued examining her find. "The fetus is suspended in a sac filled with fluid, which is being fed by the bloodstream near the main intestinal tract," she informed them. "It seems to be functioning as a womb. From the size of the fetus, it must have been growing for some time – perhaps two months or so – and appears to be doing well."

"Two months," Loki murmured to himself. It was now just over two months since he had been captured and brought back in chains to Asgard. He swallowed hard, then immediately regretted it, as the infusion had replenished the fluids in his body. Wrenching his hand out of Frigga's grasp, he rolled onto his side and heaved over the edge of the bed. Green bile spewed from his mouth, spattering Thor's boots and making the thunder god turn almost as green as the phlegm; to his credit, however, Thor only grabbed a handful of Loki's hair to keep it out of the way. Once Loki had finished emptying his already starved stomach, he curled back into himself, lying on his side, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

"This can't be happening... This can't be happening..." he mumbled, like a mantra, as though that would dispel everything as a bad dream. While he lay still, the healer reconstructed a projection of his internal organs.

"Here," she pointed, indicating two small, elliptical lumps attached to either corner of the transverse colon. "These look like ovaries. They do not exist in Æsir males, at least."

"Do they seem to be well formed?" Frigga asked.

"Yes. They are proportional and symmetrical."

"So perhaps they are a natural, normal part of his anatomy." Frigga combed her fingers through Loki's hair as he continued to repeat his phrase under his breath. "Loki... Loki, darling, do you know who the father is?" she prodded. "It may help us to know... what races the child is comprised of."

Loki ceased his mumbling and stared unblinkingly at the space before his eyes.

"Clint Barton," was his stoic answer after an agonized silence. "A Midgardian soldier... a _mortal_."

He spat out the last word. As though it were not humiliating enough to be found pregnant with another man's child, to admit that said other man was a mere mortal was... mortifying.

After a minute to absorb the shock – both of his brother's condition and the person who had partially caused it – Thor recovered and cleared his throat. "He is a good man, a skilled archer," he said for Frigga's benefit. "He fought well to defend his world once he was freed from Loki's control over his mind. But, Loki... if this child was conceived while Barton's allegiance was coerced... you have more transgressions to pay for than we had already supposed."

"It wasn't like that," Loki retorted without moving or looking up at Thor. "He _wanted_ it. I would not have bent his will to mine on such a matter." His voice had died down to a whisper by the end so that Thor could hardly catch what he said. Frigga continued to stroke his hair in an effort to give him what comfort she could.

"If the child is half Midgardian, at least we have some idea what to expect," she said to the healers. "We must research all the information we have on the Jötun race for the rest. I can supply the rate of growth for a Jötun child after it is born, for I recorded every detail of Loki's development. And we know that the frost giants' children are not always as large in comparison to us as their adult counterparts."

Loki gave up a small, wordless cry of dismay and turned to his mother.

"How in Hel am I supposed to _birth_ it?" he asked, panic seizing him.

"We will find out, my dear," Frigga soothed, patting his cheek. "There is plenty of time before the child is grown enough to be born. We will know enough by then to keep both of you safe. Do not worry."

* * *

It took three whole days for Loki to regain the weight he had lost, but the healers were finally able to make him comfortable by siphoning off the green bile that accumulated in his stomach – a byproduct of his body changing to accommodate the child – at regular intervals. He still had no appetite, but he was at least able to keep down what he ingested.

Frigga had insisted on placing drapes around his cell for privacy, realizing that his condition would soon become noticeable to the other inmates. Odin's injunction against visiting her younger son was cast aside with scorn; she would not let anything come between her and her child when her _grandchild's_ wellbeing was at stake. After the initial shock had worn off and Loki had gazed at the creature growing within his belly often enough to admit that it really _was_ a child, he expressed some doubts as to whether it should be allowed to live.

"Loki!" Frigga scolded. "This child is a _gift!_ Look at how his heart beats in his tiny breast – how perfectly his fingers and toes are forming! Do you not feel _any_ sense of care for this new life, which is not only a part of you now but also a piece of you that will take on its own life and destiny?"

"You mistake me, Mother, if you think I said so for my own selfish reasons," Loki replied with unwonted sobriety. "I only know what this child will have to endure if it lives. I know what ridicule and suspicion will dog its steps, just for the fact that it is _mine_ – let alone half Jötun! It is half monster, half mortal... born into a land of gods. How can it even _begin_ to find happiness? It is the only one of its kind, and I, its only parent, an outcast condemned to this prison. What sort of existence can it hope to have?"

"You do not give our people enough credit," Frigga insisted, although her eyes were saddened as well. "No child is responsible for its own parentage. And I give you my word that I will care for him as I did for you. Is that not enough?"

A faint smile flitted across Loki's lips. "He, or she, will have the best mother in all the nine realms. That is more than enough, and I thank you. But I... I worry for what may be in its future."

"Then you have truly become a parent," Frigga said gently.

A looming shadow fell upon the white curtains before the barrier was lowered for Thor to enter the chamber.

"You are looking better, Brother," he observed with relief.

"I will not besmirch your shoes again soon, I don't think," Loki said dryly, "although I would give anything to have seen your face when I did."

Frigga patted the edge of the bed next to where she sat, and Thor settled there, taking care not to jostle Loki.

"Now that you are well again, there is a matter I wished to speak to you about," Thor began.

Loki paled, thinking his brother might bring up the brief and forbidden dalliance of their youth. Though he loved his mother dearly and trusted her implicitly, Loki had never confided in her about it, and he did not intend to now. But he need not have worried.

"How are you going to tell Clint Barton?" Thor gravely asked.


	10. Chapter 10

"Tell him what, exactly?" Loki asked in return, his tone dripping with sarcasm and condescension. "That he has fathered a half-monster child with me while under my command?"

"Yes, if that is what you consider the truth," Thor replied, the pulsing vein in his forehead belying his calm words. "But the child appears to be growing normally, so there is no need to call it a monster. It does not deserve such derision... let alone from its _mother_."

Loki flinched at the last word but responded before Frigga could intervene. "And what, pray tell, dear _Brother_, is _normal_ for a Jötun half-breed? Four arms and two tails? Fangs as long as an elgroch's tusks? What may seem 'normal' to your Æsir eyes may be a hideous deformity for the Jötun – after all, they have males that carry children!" Loki's sharp laugh bordered on hysteria. "For all we know, the Asgardian _air_ may be lethal to this creature. And it may never grow to a size that it can be born – however _that_ is supposed to happen! Or it may simply claw its way out of my body, tearing through my entrails, and go on to devour all the nine realms entire. So until we know if this child will live and, if it does, if it should be allowed to do so, what is there exactly to _tell_ Clint Barton?"

Frigga had grasped Loki's hands as he flung himself into his tirade, and now she pulled on them to direct Loki's attention to herself.

"Oh, dearest... you do care deeply for this child, don't you?" she said with compassion filling her eyes. "You fear that it will not live. I promise you, even if the air itself threatens to harm it, I will do everything in my power to save it. You know I will."

Loki swallowed and bowed his head, acknowledging her statement. His ire seemed to have deflated completely.

"I still think," Thor resumed after a moment, "that he ought to be told. Were I in his place, I would want to know. The child has been growing without mishap all this time, despite your grave illness, so I would consider its constitution to be hardier than most."

Loki sighed. "And what do you expect the human to do with this news? Rejoice? He _hates_ me. Once freed from my spell, he tried immediately to kill me. How, then, do you think he will react to learning that he has a _child_ with me? Besides, he is a mortal whose life, at best, will span a hundred years. This child may live as long as the Jötun, or half as much, or only as long as a Midgardian. Its powers may also reflect its Jötun heritage, whether in full or in part, or it may be as weak as any human. Do you honestly intend to ask Clint Barton to be a father to a creature whose very essence is as yet unknown and may continue to be unpredictable? What if the child comes into its magic suddenly and decides to throw a tantrum at that moment – what would become of its human father? No. It is only prudent to keep the child here in Asgard, where it can be contained if necessary, but exposing a mortal to it, or allowing it to visit Midgard, would be folly."

Having observed Loki's face as he spoke, Frigga realized that he had given the matter much thought already.

"This Clint Barton," she said, enunciating the foreign name with care, "you care for him, don't you?"

The flush that spread across Loki's pale face was all the answer she needed; it caught Thor by surprise.

"He was a useful soldier, nothing more," Loki lamely replied.

"Tell me more about him," she insisted, if anything as gentle as her voice could be said to insist.

Loki gazed down at where she was holding his hands while he spoke. "There is not much to tell... He fought with skill and heart when I first infiltrated their fortress, like any good warrior would, but since the other soldiers of Midgard were weak and cowardly, he caught my eye. I needed a decent general to achieve my purpose, so I... commandeered him. As well as the scientist, of course."

"There must have been more to him that caught your eye than just his _courage_ if you invited him to your bed," Frigga teased, delighting in the deep hue of red in Loki's cheeks that betrayed him.

"He is... not unpleasing to the eye. As far as Midgardians go," he grudgingly conceded. "But I was too occupied with my task to bother looking for a better specimen. I merely wanted to while away the short time it took to make my preparations. He was... adequate."

"He is an honorable man, stout-hearted and true," Thor put in, nettled by his brother's seemingly low opinion of the agent but also feeling strangely upset at how Loki was blushing. "He deserves a better mate than one who would disparage his manliness."

"He impregnated a frost giant – I would think that sufficient proof of his manliness," Loki snapped back, irritated.

"Was he gentle with you, my dear?" Frigga asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Mother!" both of her sons cried in dismay. They realized their mistake when she broke into peals of laughter.

"Oh, my boys! Never fear, I shall not ask for the intimate details of your coupling – with _anyone_," she demurely promised, though still stifling a chuckle. "I only wish to know what manner of man the father of my grandchild is. Loki, my dear, if he has earned an 'adequate' by your exacting standards, I consider him to be a very good man indeed. In fact, I should very much like to meet him."

Loki gaped at her, stunned; before he could form any words, Thor revealed his plan.

"I have already spoken to Father about this matter, and he has agreed to let us use the Tesseract to travel to Midgard. He will give you a temporary reprieve from this cell if it is only to inform Clint Barton of your... condition. I will go with you, of course, to ensure that you do not trouble the Midgardians any further. Mother, if you wish to accompany us...?"

"I do!" she responded, a brilliant smile spreading across her features. "I have not been to Midgard in... oh, eons! And I cannot wait to meet your Clint Barton, Loki." There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Mother, th-that isn't... I-I mean, going to Midgard, of all places – it's filthy and covered in squalor!" Loki stuttered with a stricken look.

"Of course it is, my dear. But I must thank Clint Barton in person for the gift of my first grandchild." Frigga stood and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, as though preparing to ride. "When do we leave?"

* * *

When they arrived on the planet, a host of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were waiting for them. Thor had managed to contact the human agency by manipulating an archaic form of communication known as "radio," so they had arranged to meet the Asgardians in a remote location. The usually blank-faced men surrounding them – Loki pointed out that they could hardly be considered guarding them _or_ protecting them – all seemed to grow speechless when they beheld Frigga's beauty. It was just as well, for Loki was in a sour mood and any attempt at conversation, even by his mother, only produced more scowls. Their short journey in the armored SUV was noticeably silent.

Nick Fury met them at the entrance to an underground laboratory similar to the one where the Tesseract had been housed. His glare was softened somewhat at the appearance of Frigga, whom he greeted with courtesy, but it quickly resumed boring a hole in Loki.

"Do not fear any mischief from my brother, Commander," Thor told him. "You see he is wearing chains – they prevent him from using magic. And even he will not do anything to endanger our mother."

Fury nodded in acknowledgement but did not remove his gaze. "You were pretty vague in explaining _why_ you wanted to visit – not that it's unwelcome, of course, but I fail to see why it was necessary to bring your _brother_ along. Especially since you'd assured us that he would rot in an Asgardian jail for the rest of his life."

"There is a... matter of _personal_ interest we must discuss with Clint Barton. Is he here?" Thor tactfully asked.

"Yes, as you requested. But as his commanding officer, I hope this isn't going to dredge up any more bad memories. It took him a while to get his head unscrambled after what Loki did to him." The glare intensified. "I'd rather not put him through any more trauma, but it was ultimately his decision to meet with you."

"I'm glad of that. We would not ask him to do anything that he is, uh... uncomfortable with," Thor replied. He wondered briefly what sort of thing might be beyond Clint Barton's threshold of tolerance if he had been willing (as Loki claimed) to sleep with his captor.

"Come this way," Fury said, turning to lead them into the facility.


	11. Chapter 11

When Clint had been notified of the strange communications from Asgard, which indicated that the group wished to meet with him _specifically_, he wasn't sure what to think. He had just returned to work with the understanding that he would only be given routine assignments for a while, and Fury had assured him that he did not have to comply with the Asgardians' request; however, Clint decided at once to meet with them, secretly hoping to hear some news of Loki. If he played his cards right and asked the right questions, all the while making them think that he wasn't interested... he thought he might have a chance at gleaning some information about his former captor and lover.

So he was unprepared to see Loki arrive in person, his image magnified on the many screens of the command center. Clint noticed first the look of resignation wrapped around the demigod like a heavy cloak. Now that his memories had been restored, it troubled Clint to see Loki without his characteristic confidence. He also thought Loki looked gaunt and chalked it up to the trials of incarceration. Although Clint had no idea what an Asgardian prison looked like, he knew that confinement and solitude would grate upon Loki's soul.

As the three visitors followed Fury down the halls, they were tracked by multiple security cameras. Clint noted the loose-fitting robes Loki was wearing and wondered if they were standard prison issue. Before, Loki had dressed with immaculate style, every cut and stitch enhancing his elegant physique. Clint realized those same clothes might hang loosely on him now. The hollow of Loki's cheek was deeper; Clint's instinctive desire was to press a kiss into it. His heart rate increased as he suddenly thought that he might – just possibly – have the chance to do so, but his excitement was suppressed by the sight of the chains on Loki's wrists. He knew it was unlikely the trickster would be allowed anything that might afford him pleasure. Perhaps Asgardian justice had simply dictated that he apologize to his victims in person. Even so, Clint's heart thudded with anticipation.

"Clint," Natasha called. Her voice seemed to reach him from far away. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Actually, I do," he said. "I have... unfinished business with him. And it seems he does too."

Natasha nodded in understanding though she still looked confused. Knowing he could never fully explain this to her, Clint walked down the hall to the room they had set aside for the interview. Steve and Bruce were already standing in the large, brightly lit space, and Tony was just coming in through another door, having flown over the transport convoy in his latest suit as a precaution. Bruce glanced at Clint as they waited for the Asgardians to arrive.

"Any idea what this is all about?" Bruce asked mildly.

"No clue," Clint admitted. Fury entered a moment later, leading the three visitors.

"Ah! My friends!" Thor cried with genuine pleasure, reaching out to clap Steve on the shoulder. "You did not all have to assemble on our account, but I am glad that I can present you to my mother. Mother, this is Steve, a fierce captain among most noble warriors; Bruce, whose strength surpasses that of any other mortal; Tony, a man of iron, as you see – he fashions his own armor to do wondrous things; the Lady Natasha, who rivals our own Lady Sif in combat; and Clint Barton, of whose courage and deeds you have already heard much."

While Steve, Bruce, and Natasha nodded politely to Frigga, Tony irrepressibly took her hand and placed a kiss on her fingers. Clint, who had seen Thor do the same to Jane Foster in the surveillance footage, followed suit, much to Frigga's delight.

"Great warriors all, to whom I owe much gratitude," Frigga pronounced with a beaming smile.

"You honor us with your gracious presence," Tony replied, determined to stand out as the most charming. Clint was in no position to contest him for the title, since he was preoccupied with staring at Loki – who in turn was preoccupied with staring at the floor, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

"Well, now that we're all gathered, if you'd care to have a seat...?" Fury said with a wave of his hand. There were two long, white sofas on either side of a glass coffee table. Frigga nudged Loki to sit in the middle of one of the sofas, flanked by herself and Thor, while Clint placed himself firmly across the table from Loki, flanked by Natasha and Fury. Tony and Bruce sat in two armchairs at either end, poised to respond in case Loki was not as well subdued as Thor had promised. Maria slipped in and unobtrusively served coffee to everyone.

"So. Loki." Clint broke the awkward silence. "I heard you wanted to see me?"

Loki had tensed upon hearing Clint's voice – for the first time since he had been hauled away in chains from Midgard – but he finally looked the other man in the eye.

"For the record," he said, his tone haughty, "I am here against my will. This fool's errand was planned against my advice. Were it up to me, we would not be sitting here at all."

"Loki!" Frigga chided, making him falter, but he continued with his green eyes fixed upon Clint's as though by sheer willpower he could force him to obey.

"However, since I am unavoidably here, I will say this: Clint Barton, if you value your life and future, do not hear the tidings the others would give you. Do not allow them to speak of it to any of your comrades. Insist that we return to Asgard at once. Of course my brother will wish to see his _woman_ before departing," Loki added with a sneer, "but you have the right to forbid him from revealing this secret and he will be honor-bound to comply." Loki cast his eyes down to his hands, which were clasped tightly upon his knees. "That is all."

Clint was stunned by Loki's words, but what struck him most was that Loki feared the news would _harm_ him – that Loki was (or at least claimed to be) concerned for Clint's welfare. It sent a cold shiver down his spine which jangled his nerves and mixed in with the emotions already swirling in the pit of his stomach. Then he noticed Loki's posture: how tense he was, his knuckles almost white, and how he was biting his lower lip and attempting to hide it by keeping his face turned down.

"_He's bracing himself for the worst,"_ flashed across Clint's mind. Then he realized that Loki was _afraid_. Perhaps for Clint, perhaps for his own selfish reasons, but in either case he was nervously, desperately, heartrendingly afraid. _"Of what?"_ Clint wondered, feeling the first twinge of fear himself. _"What is it about this news that's making him so scared?"_

Aloud, Clint only said, "I don't care much for secrets – for keeping them, anyway. I even had a shrink dig around in my brain so I could remember every detail of the time you kept me under your mind control. I knew I wouldn't like what I'd see, but... human beings are like that. We don't like losing control and we'd rather know the truth, no matter how bad it is, than believe a bunch of lies. At least _I_ would, anyway. So I dug up all the memories you tried to hide from me. And in a way, I'm glad I did."

Loki did not look up as he quietly replied, "Your memories were vague and confused as a natural result of your being forcibly – and quite crudely – extracted from my spell. I did not intend to deprive you of the glorious hours you had served me, fulfilling a higher purpose than any other you will ever know in your short existence. But you may yet live to regret knowing the truth. I warn you again, do not allow the others to speak of it; but if you will not heed my counsel, so be it. I have done all that I could to spare you."

Clint studied the shadows under Loki's eyes and longed to touch him and hold him, to make him sleep in his arms until the darkness was replaced by the healthy glow he had seen so many mornings when they had awoken in the tangle of each other's embrace. He ached to see the sickly pallor of Loki's skin and wondered what tortures waited for him in the prison of the gods. But right now Clint couldn't do anything about it, so he simply said, "Tell me. Tell me everything."


	12. Chapter 12

Loki heard Clint's decision as though it were a death-knell. He had expected it, of course – he knew the human would never shrink back from any threat – but it still felt like a blow from Vorgell's battle axe. He bit his lip again and vowed to remain silent for the remainder of his stay. It would not be difficult, he thought. He only hoped it would be brief.

Since Loki refused to speak and Thor was hesitant to divulge his brother's secret, Frigga began by explaining how Loki had been found by Odin as a baby and was actually Jötun, not Æsir. She also added how he had shown marvelous abilities as a child and exceeded their expectations in many ways. Then she noted that since Asgard had long been at enmity with Jötunheim, there were many things about Jötun physiology which remained unknown to them. Loki gripped his hands even tighter as she came to the crux of the matter.

"We are now discovering that at least in some Jötun males, female organs can coexist within their bodies, allowing both functions to be possible. Heretofore we had not even considered such an anatomy viable, but it seems there are many wonders beyond our comprehension yet in this universe."

When she paused, Tony jumped in to ask, "Okay, that's great – but why are you telling us all this? Why do we need a lesson in Jötun anatomy?"

"Oh, God!" Clint burst out, effectively negating Tony's question. "You don't mean... You can't possibly...!"

"What? What is it?" Natasha asked.

"Loki!" Clint said, ignoring everyone else. "Look at me! Is it... Are you... Damn it, Loki – _look at me!_"

Loki was startled when his chin was pulled up so he could not avoid facing Clint, who had leapt onto the coffee table (made of bulletproof glass) and was now crouching on it directly in front of him. He wanted to turn away, but the fierceness of Clint's gaze prevented him from doing so. With a sinking feeling, Loki realized that the human had deciphered the truth. Loki tasted blood as he bit his lip hard enough to break the skin.

"You are," Clint whispered, almost numb with shock. "Oh, God... you really are..."

"Um, excuse me," Tony interrupted, "but am I missing something here?"

"You're not the only one," Fury said, his eye still fixated on Loki.

"Am I correct in assuming," Bruce began hesitantly, "that in spite of everything we assume to be true of human – or rather, _humanoid_ anatomy... that Loki is now... _pregnant?_"

"What?" Steve cried, astonished. "How is that even...?" He trailed off after receiving a withering look from Tony, who had figured it out a split second after Bruce had started speaking. Steve turned back to Loki and Clint, whose eyes were still locked, and gasped, "Oh! Oh... of course," blushing bright crimson. Natasha, by contrast, had turned ashen.

Loki felt trapped – not in a cage, but as though he were on the knife's-edge of a precipice, balanced for now but poised to tumble into the abyss below at the slightest breath of wind. It was an all-too-familiar feeling, one he had hoped to never experience again. The only thing keeping him in check was the piercing, steely blue of Clint Barton's eyes, and even that, Loki knew, would soon be filled with disgust and loathing, leaving him to teeter into the blackness beneath. The human would reject him for the freakish monster he was, just as Odin had, just as Thor had, just as his own birth father had so long ago in Jötunheim. It was only a matter of time...

But suddenly Loki felt strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him close to the warmth of Clint's chest, and lips that were both tender and fierce pressing against his own, forcing him to unclamp his teeth and give way to the tongue that _demanded_ entry there. He could not breathe, he could not think, he could not even move. He felt Clint lick the blood away tenderly from his abused lower lip. He numbly allowed himself to be held while Clint combed his hair with one hand and placed kisses in the hollow of his cheek. He stared at nothing, his eyes unable to focus, until he was given a brisk shake and forced to look into Clint's eyes again.

"You're carrying my child – _our_ child. That's... amazing! Unbelievable, and incredible, but... _amazing_," Clint declared, his eyes still clear blue and even, to Loki's surprise, filled with awe and delight. "I should have known, the moment I saw you wearing these baggy robes," Clint continued, not realizing the meltdown Loki had had upon finding that his impeccably tailored clothes no longer fit him. "Or at least, I should have guessed. Not that I would've thought you'd be _pregnant_ in a million years... But hey, does this mean you have a... a... what-do-they-call-it, a... baby bump?"

Loki swallowed hard and averted his eyes. It had taken all of Frigga's considerable powers of persuasion to get him to wear his current outfit, which, though shapeless and unflattering, hid his belly very well, and then it had required Thor's strong-arming to get him to come to Midgard. Loki was not yet comfortable with the changes to his body, but with a start he realized that Clint (who had a more intimate knowledge of Asgardian dress than any other human) was beginning to unfasten the clasps of his loose tunic.

"Wh-Wha-What...?" he stuttered, his vow of silence completely forgotten, as Clint deftly opened the front folds of his outer garment. "C-Clint!" he protested, but by then the human had already unhooked the diagonal flap of his high-waisted trousers, revealing Loki's slightly protruding stomach. It was soon covered, however, with the warmth of Clint's sturdy hand.

"Hey, there," Clint whispered, almost to himself. "So... that's where you are. Hiding in your mama's tummy..."

Loki was stunned when he understood that Clint was talking to the child. He was also overwhelmed by some very un-maternal emotions triggered by the sensation of Clint's hand – which had always felt hot to Loki's Jötun skin – touching his bare belly. That same hand had often wandered across the expanses of Loki's body, trailing heat and desire, while they had consummated their passion. Loki was mortified to sense his manhood responding to the well-remembered touch, but before it could grow to obvious proportions, he was distracted by Clint yet again.

"Loki," the man demanded, staring straight into the demigod's startled green eyes, "why did you warn me not to find out about this? Why didn't you want me to know... about _my own kid?_"

Loki opened his mouth to reply but could not think of anything to say. He struggled to find some words – _any_ words – but was pulled into a crushing embrace before he could succeed.

"I get it," Clint murmured into his ear. "You thought I wouldn't _want_ the kid, didn't you? You thought I'd hang you out to dry, knocked up and all alone, because it happened while I was under your mind control. You thought... I'd cut and run, just like everyone else in your life has. Well, you thought _wrong_." Clint grabbed Loki's face in both hands and forced him to meet his gaze again. Clint's jaw was set in a strong line of determination. "You thought _dead_ wrong, do you hear? I don't know what sort of men you have in your world, but here on Earth a man isn't worth his name if he won't even take care of his own. I would never, _never_ turn my back on my own kid! I don't care what the circumstances are, or how... _unexpected_ it might be: if the kid is mine, I won't stand for having it raised without knowing me as its father! I have every right to raise it the way I think it should be, to teach it the things I think it ought to know. So, like it or not, Loki, you've got a _partner_ when it comes to raising this kid. You're not in this thing alone. And no matter what happens, we'll get through it _together_."

Before Clint was even halfway done talking, Loki's eyes were overrun with tears. He hardly knew why he was crying, but the flood of emotions rushing through him was inexorable and undeniable. He felt more exposed, more vulnerable, more _weak_ than he ever had before, but when Clint hugged him tightly and began kissing the wetness off his cheeks, he also felt more _safe_ than ever before. He clung to Clint and allowed himself to cry as he had not cried since his childhood, when seeking his mother's comfort had not yet been a cause for ridicule.

Frigga, sitting next to him, was also weeping, but with tears of joy. Clint Barton's response to the news of Loki's child was better even than she had dared to hope; he had not only claimed the child as his own but had also sensed Loki's loneliness and reached out to claim _him_ as well. She could not have wished for a better mate for her son, and she inwardly thanked the Norns for guiding him to this man, even though he was a mortal and would be taken from him much sooner than an Asgardian.

Sitting on the other side of the sofa, Thor had heard most of what Clint had said to Loki, and it gave him pause. Though he had not understood some of Clint's expressions, his meaning was clear enough, and one phrase in particular was now stuck in his mind: _"You thought I'd run, just like everyone else in your life has."_ While he wondered to whom, exactly, Clint was referring, it was impossible to deny that Thor himself must be included in that all-encompassing statement. He remembered how Loki had attempted to kill him, having harbored that much secret resentment against him – what had he done to cause it? When Thor had been banished to Midgard, his friends had disobeyed Loki in favor of helping him – did his brother feel that betrayal more keenly than he had let on? He also considered Odin's refusal to acknowledge Loki's misguided efforts, which resulted in Loki letting go of his hold on life – was that how Loki had expected Clint to respond as well?

Although Thor was relieved that Clint was willing to be a father to the child and was offering Loki his support in more ways than one, it nonetheless bothered the thunder god to realize that the human was (probably) the only man other than himself who had experienced carnal pleasure with Loki. He knew he never should have used his brother in that way, but it was an altogether separate matter to make his heart accept that his role as Loki's lover was being usurped by another, and a mortal man at that. Thor fought to overcome his jealousy as he watched Loki being comforted by Clint Barton.


	13. Chapter 13

When Frigga had explained how some Jötun males also possessed female organs, Clint initially dismissed it, since he had extremely intimate knowledge of Loki's physiology and was certain that his former lover did not have a vagina; however, the thought occurred to him that she would not be telling them this information unless it were pertinent to the reason for their visit, and that this visit had to have something to do with Loki for him to have been let out of his prison cell, and then Clint was painfully aware of the many, many times he had fucked Loki, having relived every encounter more than once in his memories... and he knew it _had_ to be the truth. Not that it was any easier to believe, of course, but when he saw the fear and desperation in Loki's eyes, he was forced to accept it. And, being a man of action, he had acted – in the only way he thought was acceptable, considering the circumstances.

Holding a sobbing, broken Loki in his arms, he felt justified in his decisions. Loki needed him, just as much as his child would need him, and Clint was not about to let either of them down without trying his damnedest. His guess that Loki had been isolated and lonely was proven out, it seemed, by how the once-proud demigod was now clutching at him for comfort. Clint felt a momentary surge of anger at Thor, who was sitting alongside Loki as though in support of his brother but had abandoned him when he had needed him most. Clint pushed that feeling down with the determination that protecting Loki was _his_ responsibility now and that he would do a far better job of it than the god of thunder ever had. Rubbing Loki's back in long, soothing strokes, Clint waited for him to calm down so he could ask the myriad questions percolating in his mind.

The others in the room had questions of their own, too, but even Tony kept his mouth shut out of respect for the two at the center of this bizarre turn of events. Though only Natasha had known for certain that Clint had been sexually involved with Loki during his captivity, Bruce and Fury had suspected, at least, that Loki might have taken advantage of him while controlling him. Tony had not given it much thought before, but now presented with the truth, it seemed an unsurprising and almost natural outcome to him. Steve had a harder time wrapping his mind around it – not because he was unfamiliar with the practice of men making love to each other, but because he would have expected Loki, as the aggressor, to have impregnated Clint rather than the other way around. Of course he had not expected _either_ until it had become obvious that _some_ form of sexual intercourse had occurred, which still left him blushing beet red. Clint's display of unabashed affection, however, had made it rather easier to comprehend; it was clear that at least on the human's part, there was more than simple physical lust at play. Seeing them locked in a tangled mess of limbs filled Steve with a warm, wistful longing, just as it filled Natasha with cold dread.

When Loki's outburst began to subside, Frigga gave him a handkerchief to wipe his eyes, and he managed to say, between sniffs, "I'm sorry, my body... all the hormones... I just can't seem to... _control_ it, anymore."

"Ah!" Clint responded, comprehension dawning. "Hormones – of course! How are you feeling? This must be so strange for you..."

Loki blew his nose like a trumpet before answering, with great fervor, "You have _no_ idea!"

"We thought he had been poisoned at first," Frigga explained. "He became deathly ill and lost so much weight, we feared we might lose him altogether." She ran a hand affectionately over his hair. "We had not expected anything like this, so it took some time to find the cause of his illness. Imagine our surprise when we did!"

"You were sick?" Clint asked Loki directly, concern etching his face. Loki nodded, not wishing to elaborate.

"He could not keep down anything, even when his stomach was empty," Thor supplied, somehow wanting Clint to know how horribly the pregnancy had affected Loki. "He was convinced the poison was fatal and asked us to release him from his misery."

Clint heard his comments without removing his gaze from Loki, who once again had cast down his eyes. "Is this true?" he asked him softly. "You were so sick... you thought you were dying?"

A twinge of color appeared in Loki's sunken cheeks as he nodded ever so slightly. Clint pressed a kiss to the dark ring under one of his eyes, understanding better why it had appeared.

"We call it 'morning sickness' on Earth," he told Loki. "I don't know much about it, but I've heard it's pretty nasty."

"I assure you, that is a misnomer," Loki said dryly, "for my sickness was certainly _not_ limited to the morning hours."

"It must have been awful," Clint murmured, holding Loki close. "You must have been so frightened... not knowing what was happening, but expecting the worst."

Loki stilled, suddenly feeling as though his entire being had been laid bare – or rather, as though his heart had been sliced and put on display like that of a Gopulian fish, still beating while the privileged customer prepared to eat it. He was uncertain why or how Clint was able to see into him so clearly, cutting through all the many layers of deceit and distraction to the core of his insecurities, but despite his instinct to flinch away from such scrutiny, he did not feel the sense of danger or dread he might have expected. Clint had only mentioned it because he was concerned for Loki, worried about his emotional as well as physical wellbeing; with Clint, his heart was safe. Although Loki did not answer with words, his tightened grip on Clint's arms spoke clearly.

"So... are you over that stage?" Clint asked. Loki gave a small shrug.

"We have found a way to alleviate the symptoms," Frigga told him. "We do not know if it will last through the entire pregnancy or not."

"And how long will the pregnancy last?" Clint asked, raising one eyebrow.

"We have no way of knowing," Frigga admitted. "If the child takes after you, its human father, it may be born in as little as seven months; if it takes after Loki, we cannot say for certain... we do not have any records on the gestation period of the Jötun."

"What she has not yet told you," Loki added, forcing himself with a great effort of will to push away from the comforting warmth of Clint's chest, "is that the Jötun are a monstrous race, blue-skinned and marked with ancestral runes all across their bodies. We... The Æsir call them 'frost giants' with good reason." He could not meet Clint's eyes as he said, "If the child takes after me at all, it would be dangerous for you to be near it; your mortal body would not be able to withstand a single blast of its power."

"So, I'll have to take precautions," Clint responded steadily, determined to show Loki that he would not give up on their child. "But you don't look anything like that – why is that?"

Loki pursed his lips so Frigga supplied the answer. "The All-Father placed a powerful spell upon him when he claimed him as his own – as our son – when he was an infant. He naturally had shape-shifting abilities, so it was easy to make him conform to an Æsir body; now he will not return to his Jötun form unless he is in direct contact with another one of his kind, and even then not completely unless he wishes it."

"Huh. So the kid might be born blue, like a Jötun, or possibly turn out mostly human, or even look like a mixture of the two species," Clint said, counting out the options to clarify them. "It might have powers like Loki, or none like me, or somewhere in between; and it might live thousands of years like you guys, or just about a hundred years like us humans, or somewhere in the middle."

"Or it may surpass any powers and abilities we can imagine, becoming a plague upon all the nine realms," Loki put in, "or it may not survive beyond birth at all. There is simply no way to predict the outcome of this... It is completely unprecedented."

"Well." Clint grinned and gathered both of Loki's slender hands in his own. "Sounds like one for the history books, doesn't it?"

Loki's expression was of disbelief as he said, "Perhaps you do not understand the _gravity_ of this situation..."

Clint shrugged. "After what I've seen – inter-dimensional aliens with flying crustacean ships and all – having a kid with unusual powers and traits doesn't seem too challenging. It'll be an adventure, sure, but at least it'll keep life interesting." He stroked Loki's knuckles with his thumbs before asking,"So... I suppose it's too soon to tell if it's a boy or a girl?"

"Yes," Loki answered, but Clint did not miss the slight hesitation before he spoke. He would have pursued the matter if Frigga did not interrupt him with an unexpected offer.

"Would you like to see the child?" she asked, a proud smile lighting up her face.

"See it?" Clint echoed. "Like a... ultrasound or something?"

Frigga nodded and placed her hands on Loki's shoulders without waiting for Clint to reply. As he and all the other humans watched with anticipation, a small golden ball – made up of a thousand pinpricks of light – formed in the air before Loki. The lights tightened and focused to reveal a curled form within.

"So tiny," Clint whispered in awe, "but look at those little fingers and toes! It's... It's _perfect!_"

Loki, who had been observing Clint's reaction without daring to breathe, felt as though the weight of the world – perhaps of _all_ the worlds – had been lifted off his shoulders.


	14. Chapter 14

"Well, my friends," Tony remarked, unable to suppress himself any longer, "I believe this calls for a celebration! Jarvis, have one of my other suits deliver some champagne and Cuban cigars." When Clint turned to him in disbelieving amusement, Tony pointed to the image of the fetus and declared, "That, Hawkeye, is a fine-looking kid! I wouldn't have believed it possible that you could make such a fine specimen of a... well, _whatever_ it is – let alone with _Loki_ – but you should be proud of yourself!"

"Yes, congratulations," Bruce added, stepping closer to give Clint a gentle slap on the shoulder. "You're right about this being one for the history books; I don't suppose there's ever been a Human-Jötun crossbreed before... It'll change our understanding of genetics forever. But for what it's worth, Hawkeye, I think you'll make a _great_ dad."

"Thanks," Clint said, touched most by his last comment.

Frigga's projected image of the child faltered and blurred for a moment. "Excuse me," she said mildly, "but why do you all call Clint Barton 'Hawkeye'?"

"Oh," Bruce said, gesturing vaguely with a disarming smile, "it's from his precision aiming – he's quite the marksman, you know. He has 'eyes like a hawk.' Just a little nickname we have for him."

"I see." She turned to tease Loki, "You never told me that was why you'd chosen that name."

"M-Mother!" Loki spluttered, his cheeks flushing an even brighter crimson than they already were.

"What name?" Clint immediately demanded.

"_No_ name," Loki insisted, but his embarrassment said otherwise.

"I thought it was a rather lovely one," Frigga said with a sigh. "And fitting, too, now that I know its origins." She smiled at Clint and explained, "I walked in on him unexpectedly the other day and found him talking to the babe in his belly – much like you did, earlier. Of course the child cannot yet know what we are saying, but I'm sure it can recognize our voices."

Trying not to squirm, Loki assiduously avoided Clint's gaze.

"Loki. No more secrets," Clint flatly stated. "If you've picked out a name for our kid, I'd like to know."

"It is... _folly_ to name a child before it is born... _especially_ when it is uncertain whether the child will even survive its first breath," Loki muttered. He had had too many of his secrets exposed already, in the presence of his former enemies, with very little choice in the matter. And he felt uncomfortable revealing this particular one just yet.

"The baby looks like it's doing great," Clint said, reaching out to touch Loki's stomach again and sending shivers of pleasure through his tense body. "The fact that it has grown this much is proof enough for me that it can and _will_ survive. Loki, stop expecting the worst case scenario and making things more complicated than they have to be. Just tell me... _please_."

Loki blinked in surprise at the need in Clint's tone. The demigod was used to being threatened, ordered, even cajoled, but he could not remember the last time someone had made a genuine request of him. Clint was actually treating him with respect, and it felt... _nice_. Hesitantly, Loki opened his mouth.

"I had thought... perhaps, if it _does_ live, and... if it just _happens_ to be a boy... the name... 'Heidiral' might be... appropriate," he admitted.

"It means 'Little Hawk,'" Frigga translated, beaming.

"You were going to name it after me?" Clint said, a little taken aback even though Frigga had hinted as much before. "You weren't going to _tell_ me about my kid, but you were still going to _name_ him after me?"

Loki shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. "Like I said, only if it survived, and only if it were a boy."

"What would you name it if it's a girl, then?"

"I... I don't know," Loki confessed. "I haven't thought of a good one for a girl..."

Clint narrowed his eyes at the way Loki glanced at his hands while speaking. "No. That's not it. No more lies, Loki – you haven't _bothered_ to come up with a name for a girl because you _know_ it's going to be a boy."

Loki's head snapped up, his eyes betraying his shock.

"I... I n-never... s-said that," he stammered.

"No, you didn't. But I think I can tell when you're hiding something." Clint took care not to sound harsh. "It's all right, Loki – I've always accepted that you have powers I can't understand, abilities I can't even begin to imagine. So if you tell me the kid is going to be a boy, I believe you."

Loki shook his head. "No, I-I don't... I've never had the gift of foresight," he explained. "I've never even claimed to! It's just... I have this... sort of... _feeling_... I can't explain why..."

"Darling, it's not unheard of," Frigga interjected. "Many mothers claim to sense their child – what it will look like, how it will sound – while it is still in their womb. With as many gifts as you have, I would not be surprised at all if you have perceived aright the gender of your child." She smiled indulgently. "Perhaps, if he is as gifted as you, he has told you himself."

"What did you say it was?" Clint asked, placing his palm on Loki's bared belly. "Hide... Hime-what?"

"Heideral," Loki mumbled. Suddenly, the baby in the golden sphere turned, making both Loki and Clint jump in surprise.

"Well!" Frigga laughed, her voice echoing like music off the walls. "It seems he knows his name already!"

"I guess so," Clint said, a huge grin spreading across his face. Stroking Loki's stomach, he spoke at _it_ rather than the shimmering projection above it: "Heideral, this is your dad. Or at least one of them. I can't wait to actually touch you and hold you, but I guess that'll come in due time. For now I'm just glad to know you're in there; I can't think of a better, safer place for you to be." When he drew his fingertips across the bump as though scratching it, the miniature arms in the projection flailed in response. "He could feel that, couldn't he?" Clint asked Loki, with an expression of pure joy. "He might not have liked it, but he definitely _felt_ it!"

"It would seem so," Loki managed to reply, although the same touch had winded him for a very different reason. He ached to be consumed by the heat of Clint's passion, as he had been so often before, in those memorable nights and days they had spent together. When Clint began tucking the folds of Loki's clothes, refitting the hooks and clasps that held them in place, Loki felt a strange mixture of relief and loss – relief at having his disfigured body hidden from the prying eyes of the other humans, but disappointment at having his erstwhile lover's attentions removed from his skin. Even Frigga took her hands from his shoulders, no longer sensing the need to project his child's image, making Loki feel bereft. But as soon as his robes were in order, Clint took Loki's hands (which were still chained with magic-dampening manacles) and intertwined their fingers. Loki looked up in surprise to find Clint's lips twitching.

"You said something earlier about your brother wanting to pay his lady friend a visit," Clint said with a drawl. "Does that mean he'll be here for a while? Meaning... you'll be here for a while, too?"

"I... I don't know," Loki answered truthfully, glancing sidelong at his mother. Frigga gave him a shrewd smile.

"I'm sure your father knows what is happening, with or without Heimdall's assistance," she replied. "I'm also sure I can persuade him that... it was _necessary_ for you to spend some time here on Midgard. To acquaint yourself with the other half of your child's heritage, of course," she blithely added. Loki's jaw dropped; he was unable to believe his good luck.

"Well, then." Clint turned to Fury and asked with aplomb, "The mother – or father – of my child just came all the way from another world to visit me. I wonder if I could get some time off for a... _conjugal_ visit?"

If Fury could have spared it, his remaining eye would have started out of his head, but his voice was steady as he replied, "You still have some medical leave that you haven't used, ordered by our head shrink himself. I suppose you really ought to take that time off... _recuperating_."

"I think I will. Thanks, Nick," Clint said before standing up. He pulled a stunned Loki up onto his feet as well, where the demigod stood for a moment with want and worry warring within him. "What is it, Loki?" Clint asked, reading trouble in his hesitance.

"I... I just... I can't use my magic," Loki said, miserably indicating the chains on his wrists. "And I... uh... I'm not sure..." He swallowed hard. "I don't know exactly how... _fertile_... I might be. The Jötun are a much larger race than either the Æsir or Humans, so..."

"So if you happen to get pregnant _again_, on top of this one," Clint filled in, realizing what was troubling him, "it's going to get too crowded in there. I got it – we need condoms, and probably lube, since you can't do your magic trick thingy."

Loki nodded, blushing bright red again; after all, his mother was right there, listening to this exchange with a beatific look of feigned innocence, and Thor was on his other side with thunderclouds forming on his brow. Clint ignored both of them to pull Loki down for a thorough kiss, which promised much more to come.

Fury sighed in resignation. "Barton, I suspect your barracks quarters are going to be... a bit _cramped_ for your guest. We already have rooms set aside for our visitors; I suggest you show Loki to his."

"With pleasure," Clint responded, throwing Fury a grateful grin. He tugged on Loki's chain as though to lead him away by it. "The PX is right on the way."


	15. Chapter 15

Thor had been listening to Clint's plans for Loki with growing outrage; as Clint began to lead Loki, who was still somewhat dazed, toward one of the doors, Thor whispered furiously at his mother.

"Are you just going to... let them _leave?_"

She arched a delicate brow at him in surprise. "Of course, my dear," she murmured. "It would hardly be fair to have you visiting Jane Foster while your brother is not allowed to spend time with the father of his _child_." She glanced up as Clint placed an arm around Loki's waist, guiding him to go first through the doorway. "Besides, I like Clint Barton – he is quite the gentleman, and it is obvious that he cares for my son. I think he just might make Loki _happy_... When was the last time Loki was truly happy, do you think?"

Thor could not answer her seemingly offhanded query, for he was taken back to a moment in time that was etched indelibly in his memory: the sight of a younger Loki laughing on a bed of green grass, naked and wet from swimming in the river. Thor had hauled him out of the water and carried him on one shoulder before depositing him, with some care not to hurt him, onto the ground. Thor's cock had been achingly erect from watching his brother's lithe body splashing in the sunlight.

"_Hide us from Heimdall," Thor had demanded. _

"_What – here? Now?" Loki had laughed, not believing him at first. When Thor crouched over his body and hoisted Loki's knees on his arms, Loki saw his rampant manhood and quickly cast a spell of concealment. _

"_You do realize, we could still be seen if anyone chances to walk this way," Loki pointed out while casting the next spell, two fingers touching his own hole and the other hand wrapped about Thor's cock. Both became slick with a clear, viscous fluid. _

"_Nobody comes this way," Thor argued tersely, already pushing his tip inside Loki's tight body. Loki groaned and cast another spell, allowing Thor's cock to slide in with greater ease. _

"_I hope you're right, Brother," was all Loki said. A moment later he gasped and cried out as Thor found the good spot inside of him. "Thor! Oh, yes – right there!" _

_Thor had gladly complied, his thrusts growing more powerful and desperate as his brother encouraged him. By the time Thor had shot his seed within Loki, the younger boy's chest had already been spattered with his own seed, and Loki had sighed with pleasure when Thor collapsed and lay on his sticky skin. _

"_Oh, Thor... you make me so happy," Loki had mumbled as he raked his fingers through Thor's hair. _

Recalling that day now, just as Loki was being dragged away from him (however willingly) by another man who planned to engage Loki in exactly the same sort of activity, made Thor realize how much it bothered him to see his brother with someone else. He had not even considered how Loki might have felt when he had begun courting Jane, but Thor certainly was not ready for Loki to court (or be courted by) another lover. He respected Clint Barton, even liked him as a comrade and a friend, but imagining him doing things to Loki... made Thor's blood boil.

However, since his mother – far from stopping them – was actually _encouraging_ Clint and Loki to go make love, Thor knew there was nothing he could do. Her casual reference to Jane, too, made him realize that he had an obligation. He had not intended be away from Jane for so long, although in his defense he _had_ been quite busy since he had taken his leave of her. It also forced him to admit that he was being unreasonable about Loki – if he himself had found another lover, he could hardly fault Loki for finding another as well. Drawing in a deep breath, Thor resolved to do the right thing by Jane and to leave his brother alone.

"Commander Fury," Thor addressed the man, who was still staring at the door Clint and Loki had left by as though disbelieving his eye. "I wonder if you could tell me where Jane Foster is right now?"

"I thought you might ask that," Fury said, returning his attention to Thor. "We have a jet standing by for you."

"There is no need for that. I can simply fly there," Thor began, but was interrupted by Fury's clipped response.

"You would be crossing multiple international airspaces and potentially disrupting the flight paths of hundreds of aircraft. Our way might take a little longer, but it will be a lot less trouble. Believe me."

"Oh... well, then... Thank you," he rallied, then stood to leave. "Mother, if you will excuse me..."

"Of course!" Frigga rose as well and gave Thor a quick peck on the cheek before saying in his ear, "I do hope Loki will not be the _only_ one gifting me with a grandchild, my dearest."

"Mother!" Thor gasped, blushing.

"Well? Can you fault me?" Frigga replied in a reasoning tone. "It has been much too long since the patter of little feet have echoed in the palace. And Loki's son may want a playmate."

While Thor gaped at her, speechless, Tony piped up, "I'm surprised you can remember the patter of little feet – I would've expected Thor to have stomped around like a herd of buffalo."

"He did. The patter was of Loki's feet, before he learned to slip through the halls as silently as a shadow," Frigga informed him with a smile. To Thor she added, giving his back a little push, "Why are you tarrying? You should be off like an arrow from the bow to see your Jane Foster. Do not worry about your brother; I will keep watch over him. Although I do believe Clint Barton will take good care of him as well."

Thor felt a jolt of thunder tear through his own chest at the mention of Loki's new lover, but he only nodded and pursed his lips.

"I'll take you to the hangar," Steve offered, so Thor followed him out without another word.

Once her two sons had left, Frigga turned to Fury with a disarming smile and said, "I was hoping to see more of your facility here. You are developing weapons in case of another war with a superior race like the Chitauri, are you not?"

"How did you...?" Fury began but caught himself. "Yes. We have realized how vulnerable we are and are preparing to defend ourselves better," he admitted. "While we appreciate having your people as allies, we would prefer to fight our own battles."

"A very noble sentiment," Frigga assured him. "And I must say, the progress your people have made in such a relatively short amount of time is impressive. When I last visited your planet, Man had just learned to make weapons of steel. This building itself would have seemed like the palace of the gods to your people then."

Tony jumped up to offer his arm to Frigga in a gallant gesture. "It would be my honor to show you around, if you'd like. And on behalf of the entire human race, if you have any suggestions for improving our defenses against nefarious aggressors like the Chitauri, I would be grateful for the information."

"_And_ the profit," Fury muttered darkly.

"Hey, the last time we were invaded by aliens riding crustaceans, _my tower_ was the one that took a direct hit," Tony reminded him.

"I do apologize for that," Frigga said, patting his armored arm. "Loki is being punished for his part in it, of course, but I hope you understand... he was not acting of his own volition – he had been threatened by the Chitauri into helping them."

"Oh, ah... of course," Tony responded.

"I've asked the All-Father to grant him leniency, considering the trauma Loki had experienced prior to those events, as well as his current condition," Frigga sighed, "but my husband is quite strict about not changing his decrees, even though he had been in a foul temper and might have been rather harsher in his initial judgment than otherwise. But I digress. If there are any suggestions I can make about your fortifications, or at least ones that you are able to implement, I would be happy to inform you as reparation for the unspeakable damage my son has wrought upon your world."

"How very generous of you," Tony beamed. "Shall we?"

* * *

Natasha had let the conversation wash over her like sounds at the seashore, wave upon wave of meaningless noise. From the moment she had seen the projected image of the baby growing inside of Loki, she knew that Clint would insist on being a father to the child. But more than that, she knew it would cement his feelings toward Loki himself. Clint had already confessed to her that he might be in love with his former captor, even though _that_ particular situation complicated things quite a bit; now that they would be raising a child together, Clint would want to be a proper family. And from the way Loki had responded to Clint's kindness – not to mention his sexual overtures – Natasha had no doubt that the god of mischief would eagerly accept Clint's love and attention. Whether Loki would do so without breaking Clint's heart was yet to be seen, but regardless of the outcome, one thing was certain: Loki was taking Clint away from her.

When Bruce sat down on the sofa across from her, Natasha's survival instinct kicked in, making her notice for the first time that they were alone in the room.

"Are you all right?" he asked in his gentle voice.

She considered an outright lie but settled for, "I'm not sure. Of anything."

Bruce nodded. "It's a lot to think about."

"That's for damn sure."

After another long pause, Natasha got up and announced, "I could use a drink. Join me?"


	16. Chapter 16

Clint kept his arm around Loki's waist as he guided him down the corridors to the PX, flanked by a handful of dark-suited agents. The store was a little out of their way, actually, but Clint grabbed only what they needed to keep their visit short and unwanted attention to a minimum. The cashier rang up the boxes of condoms and personal lubricants without so much as batting an eye; they were in and out of the place like one of Clint's precision operations. Loki thought he could not have pulled it off with greater efficiency himself.

Of course, at the moment, Loki's mind was spinning almost out of control, so it was unlikely he could have pulled anything – even a shopping trip – off without serious complications. Ever since Clint had touched him, lust had been raging through Loki's veins like wildfire; however, he still had qualms about engaging in sex with only Midgardian contraceptives for protection. But the reassuring presence of Clint's hand on his hip, making him feel as though the human really did know what he was doing, stilled some of his fears. Raw desire made him disregard the rest.

They arrived at the quarters prepared for the Asgardians and an attendant showed them into Loki's room. As soon as the door closed behind her and they were finally alone, Clint spun Loki around to face him.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, searching Loki's eyes for any hint of deception.

"Are you _joking?_" Loki shot back, peeling off his tunic and mentally thanking his mother for choosing one that could be taken off around his handcuffs. "Just shut up and fuck me!"

Clint laughed and started shedding clothes as well. "I thought so! I _knew_ I felt you shiver when I touched you. You couldn't stop thinking about me, could you?"

"Well, seeing as how I was in solitary confinement this whole time," Loki said sarcastically, dropping his baggy trousers and crawling up onto the bed, "my mind _did_ run over the times we spent together rather often, yes."

"If it's any consolation," Clint huffed as he climbed up after him, "I haven't been with anybody else, either. That's a pretty long dry spell for me."

"I do hope that means... you've saved up a... a lot of... _energy_... for me," Loki panted out between the kisses Clint was demanding of him. His body thrummed with need when Clint started removing his form-fitting Asgardian underwear, palming as much of Loki's skin as possible while he slid it down the demigod's long legs.

"Mm-hmm... all of it... just for you," Clint declared with a wicked glint in his eyes. He had kicked off his own underwear with his pants and was enjoying the hungry, almost salivating look on Loki's face as he stared at the bead of precome growing on the tip of Clint's cock. Loki's own cock, slender and slightly curved, had also grown to its full length and girth and was now smearing precome on his protruding belly. Clint crouched down to place a gentle kiss on that rounded bump before taking Loki's cock deep into his mouth.

"Oh! Clint!" Loki cried out and writhed on the bed as Clint tongued the sensitive underside, following the pattern of a throbbing vein there. When he sucked hard, Loki flailed helplessly and tried to cross his ankles behind Clint's back; he failed because Clint pressed the tip of his tongue into the tender slit of Loki's cock and began rubbing up and down rapidly. The delicious friction made Loki's toes curl and his back arch, nearly sending him over the edge. Clint eased up, however, and sucked off of his cock with a lewd popping noise.

"Neither of us is going to last until you're stretched," he panted, his voice rough with lust. "We'll have to make do with this for now."

Before Loki could ask what "this" was, Clint lined up their two cocks and began stroking them together with his strong, meaty hands. With a gasp of pleasure, Loki gave himself over to whatever his lover wanted to do with him. As Clint formed a tunnel with his hands and moved in tiny thrusts to force their cocks to rub together within it, Loki threw the chain on his wrists behind Clint's head and pulled him down closer.

"So... good..." Loki whispered, wishing they could kiss again. He could see Clint had run out of hands to support himself with, though, so he did not pull him any further.

"Are you ready?" Clint asked, keeping his movements steady. When Loki nodded, Clint doubled the pace of his thrusts, attempting to hit the edge of Loki's cockhead as much as possible with his own. With a cry like a creaking door, Loki shot out his load, spattering his own stomach, chest, and chin. Clint followed soon after, leaving thick, ropy stripes of white semen on his pregnant lover's body as well. By comparison, Loki's seemed almost watery. Clint bent down to lick Loki's paler issue and smiled at the familiar taste.

"Well, that was... different," Loki panted. "Not unsatisfying, although it wasn't quite what I'd had in mind..."

"We'll get you opened up now," Clint promised, then ducked out from under Loki's chain to fetch their shopping bag. Ripping open a box with a tube of lubricant, he quickly slicked up two of his fingers and placed them at Loki's entrance. The first finger slipped in without effort; the second elicited a groan. "Sorry – too fast?" Clint asked and withdrew one digit before Loki could answer, cursing himself for being too eager when Loki had just told him he had not seen any action for over two months.

"No, don't!" Loki protested. "Don't hold back – I can handle it. I want your cock up inside me so much... hurry up and get me open!"

"You wanton, horny slut," Clint teased. "I'll get it in there, don't worry."

Loki groaned again as the second finger reentered his hole, but he breathed deeply to force himself to relax. While Clint's fingers carefully wormed their way around inside him, stretching his opening and applying lube everywhere, Loki pulled his legs up on either side to give the man unrestricted access. Before long Clint was inserting a third finger from his other hand, twisting the three around to make sure the entrance was equally loose at all points of the compass.

"Oh, Norns, Clint – I'm ready! Put it in me already," Loki begged.

"I'm beyond ready too, babe," Clint answered, "but I gotta touch you where it's good..."

Pressing one finger in deeper than the rest, Clint found the spot on the first try, causing Loki to experience what looked like a seizure of pleasure, trembling as he cried out. Clint's other fingers followed suit, making Loki twitch and flail his limbs like a ragdoll.

"Oh, Clint! Oh! Oh, Norns! C-Clint!" Loki spouted, not even trying to be coherent.

"Are you ready for the big one?" Clint asked, withdrawing one hand so he could stroke himself and roll on a condom. He was erect again and straining after watching and hearing Loki's reaction.

"Of course I am, you big dolt! Just stick it in me – fuck me _hard_ with it," Loki demanded, knowing Clint would not refuse. When the man's thick cock breached him, he groaned with relief. As it plowed deeper into him, he welcomed it with everything he had, attempting to draw it further in with what muscles he controlled in that passage. It did not take long to become fully seated, a sword driven in all the way to its hilt, Clint's tense balls the only obstacle that prevented it from going in any further.

"Loki," Clint called, and when Loki looked at him he saw the command in his lover's eyes. Reaching up to meet him was an effort, especially with his rounded stomach, but Loki managed to bend himself until their lips met in a hot, passionate kiss. Only when their lips were locked did Clint begin to move within Loki, thrusting from deep to deeper with every fiber of his muscular body.

"Mm! Mmhh!" Loki moaned into his mouth, unable to verbalize how much he enjoyed being filled by Clint's large manhood – how much he had missed it over the past several weeks. But Clint knew exactly what Loki was feeling: how _right_ this felt, so like a homecoming, as though all of their pieces were parts of a greater whole that was _meant_ to fit together. The tightness and the heat were a familiar sensation to him now, but after being deprived of it for so long, he knew he would never take it for granted. He guessed, from Loki's enthusiastic sounds, that his lover felt the same way.

Clint indulged in the shallow but powerful thrusting for a while, wanting to reestablish that connection he remembered having with Loki over the days and nights they had spent together. Then he finally released Loki's lips, now bright red from the activity, and bent his neck to suck instead on the slender god's nipples. Listening to Loki gasp for air, Clint smiled with satisfaction and braced himself on the bed with his strong arms, making sure he was a safe distance above the precious baby bump. Then he pulled out most of his cock from Loki so he could slam it into him again and, as ordered, fuck him _hard_ with it.


	17. Chapter 17

Frigga's tour of the underground facility was more informative for Tony than for her since she kept dropping hints about unexpected uses for common elements, each one spawning ideas for multiple patents in Tony's hyperactive mind. Fury trailed behind them, feeling disgruntled and even superfluous at times. Most of the team had disappeared – Natasha and Bruce were now toasting each other with commiserating drinks – although Steve rejoined them when they passed through the hangar.

"Thor is safely on his way," Steve reported to Fury while Frigga described some of the Asgardian flightcraft in enough tantalizing detail to fire up Tony's imagination.

"I thought you might go with him," Fury commented.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think he needed a chaperone," Steve answered, right when there was a lull in Frigga and Tony's conversation.

"I should hope not, gentlemen," Frigga said with a throaty chuckle. "As I mentioned before, I am quite ready for my sons to present me with grandchildren. And I do believe Thor's intentions toward Miss Jane Foster are honorable."

"Of course, ma'am," Steve replied politely, his cheeks coloring.

There was not much else to see except the control room, which Tony had saved for the last. As he led Frigga in, still chatting about potential uses of flerovium in weaponry, he was horrified to see a porno flick up on the main screen. Tony was very fond of porn, but even _he_ had some sense of decorum; plus it featured two _men_ going at it like bonobos.

"Hey, Galaga Guy!" he called out in a stage whisper to an agent he recognized. "_Ix-nay_ on the _porno gay!_"

The man had been staring open-mouthed at the sight of unbridled male-on-male anal action, so it took him a moment to gather his thoughts and search his controls for the right buttons – time during which Frigga calmly observed the scene on the massive monitor.

"That is certainly a nice view of Clint Barton," she remarked. "I can see why Loki likes him."

"I-You-ah-_What?!_" Tony stumbled, completely caught off guard. Fury had come in a few steps behind them and was looking not only furious but downright apoplectic, while Steve was blushing all shades of red, including purple.

"That is Clint Barton, standing, and Loki lying on the bed. I would recognize my son's legs anywhere," she replied with aplomb. The legs in question were crossed behind Clint's back, which was in full view of the camera, as was his naked, muscular ass, which was clenching with every thrust as he pounded into Loki. "I realize you have concealed viewing devices everywhere," she continued, "though of course Loki would not have noticed them since his powers are severely limited right now. And it seems Clint Barton either does not know about them or does not care."

"He doesn't know," Fury answered through gritted teeth. "But it's standard protocol to record any encounter with a... potentially _hostile_ alien being."

"Oh, of course – we would do the same," Frigga blithely assured him. "You never know when you might find a weakness that you may need to exploit later. But I do hope, Commander," she added with her most charming smile, "you will extend the courtesy of allowing me to watch."

"You actually want to _see_ this?" Tony asked, incredulous.

"Why would I not? Loki is carrying his first child – my first grandchild; I would like to know that Clint Barton is treating him with the proper care and respect."

So saying, Frigga settled herself into Fury's command chair as though getting comfortable for a show. Fury was so stunned that he could not object or even comment. Tony glanced back and forth between the screen and Frigga's calm visage, then shrugged and sat in the seat next to her, mumbling to himself, "Too bad it's not twins." Steve simply had his eyes glued to the larger-than-life sex scene unfolding on the monitor that covered one entire wall, mouth agape. For a small hidden camera, the visual quality was excellent.

* * *

"Ah... Ah... _Ah!_" Loki keened every time Clint hit his sweet spot, which was almost every thrust. But before he could quite reach his climax, Clint backed off from the spot and slowed his movements, making it maddeningly impossible for Loki to reach release. His manacled hands were dangling from Clint's neck where he had hooked his chain again, so he could not even touch his own cock for relief.

"Stop... tantalizing me!" he complained, breathless and sweaty.

"Patience is a virtue – something you need more of," Clint teased with a wicked grin. "Besides, the wait will make it that much better."

Loki mumbled something unintelligible, although Clint was fairly certain it was derogatory. He had pulled Loki's lanky body to the edge of the bed, his ass jutting out just enough to be easily accessible when Clint planted his feet on the floor and grasped Loki's hips for leverage. He had been alternating bouts of deep, long strokes with short, quick jabs – driving Loki and himself to the brink of ecstasy only to ease away again – for the better part of an hour. When they had fucked before, Loki had demanded quick release and often; now that Clint was in full control of his faculties, he was determined to show Loki his own preferred style of making love. The gradual buildup of tension, he knew, would make their climax that much more satisfying, even if Loki whined shamelessly now.

"Oh... _Oh!_ For pity's sake... Clint! Stop... _torturing_ me!" Loki gasped.

"Stop, you said?" Clint echoed, bringing his movements to a standstill. He couldn't suppress a smirk when Loki groaned out loud in frustration.

"I liked you... a lot better... when you were... _obedient_," Loki panted as Clint laughed and resumed his gentle prodding. Loki reached down to pinch and twist Clint's nipples in retaliation, pleased when the human's breath caught in his throat. The god of mischief tried to spur him into thrusting faster and deeper by pulling on his ass with his long legs, which were crossed behind his hips, and was somewhat successful. For a while the room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing and the heavy slapping noises Clint's balls made when they hit Loki's ass.

Loki released Clint's nipples in favor of grasping the bulging muscles on his upper arms, then arched his back to try to make the man's large cock drive in deeper. Clint obliged by stroking Loki's prostate and smiled to see his eyelids flutter at the sensation.

"You're really beautiful, you know."

Startled, Loki's eyes sought out Clint's, suspicious of duplicity. When he could find no evidence of it but rather was presented with the truth of the other man's regard for him, he seemed at a loss what to do. Clint paused his hip motions and slid his hands up Loki's sides to grab him behind the shoulders, then hauled him up off the bed as he himself stood up straight. Loki's jaw dropped in surprise at the show of brute strength as well as the feeling of having most of his weight supported solely by Clint's cock.

"C-Clint?" he asked, unsure what to expect.

Clint kissed the demigod's chest and sucked on a nipple before replying. "You're so beautiful... and I'm so lucky to get another chance with you."

Any words Loki might have said were blocked by an enormous lump in his throat. All he could do was wrap his slender arms and legs around Clint and hang on as the man jostled him up and down on his cock, taking some care for his protruding belly but very definitely declaring his ownership of Loki with every momentous thrust. When Loki whimpered, his needy cock leaking precome on both their bodies, Clint decided that it was time to bring their lovemaking to a conclusion at last.

"Loki... I love you," Clint whispered.

With a sharp intake of breath, Loki pushed himself up from his lover's neck to look him in the face. Loki's lips twitched as though he were trying to say something, but no sound came out.

"It's all right," Clint told him. "I know."

He gently laid Loki down on the bed again and pulled the chain off over his head, giving Loki the freedom to touch himself if he wanted to, then began stroking his sweet spot in slow, powerful thrusts that made Loki's toes curl. Clint's hands held Loki's hips in a punishing grip – one that would have left bruises on a mortal – while he plowed into him with deliberate and deadly aim. Loki cried out with ever-increasing pleasure and urgency as he was driven up the staircase to ecstasy. In the end, he came all over himself without his cock ever being touched by either of them.

When the echoes of Loki's cries had died down, Clint allowed himself to shoot his come in his lover's body. Withdrawing only after the last drop had been released, he pulled off the condom and tied it, then tossed it into the wastebasket across the room. Clint touched Loki's rounded stomach tenderly before lifting his long, exhausted body and settling him on the bed in a more comfortable position.

"How's the kid?" he asked while he stretched out next to Loki.

"I don't know," Loki replied in a hazy murmur, "but I think he's just fine."

"If he's feeling all the endorphins in your system, he should be better than 'just fine,'" Clint pointed out.

"That sounds like an excuse to mate again... and often," Loki said, smirking.

"Hey, if it works."

Clint turned to study Loki when he did not answer and found his expression clouded.

"What is it?" he asked, rolling onto his side and moving closer.

"Nothing."

"Wrong answer. Something's bothering you."

Loki finally met Clint's gaze and, after a thoughtful moment, quietly replied, "You do realize... this can't last."

"Nothing ever lasts."

"Of course. But we have only a day or two before... I have to return to my cell. And I will not be allowed to have 'conjugal visits' there."

Clint considered the statement. "Are you sure? Couldn't you ask for leniency... or a reward for good behavior?"

Loki's face subtly hardened as he looked away. "I could ask, but the answer will be 'No.' My mother has been asking for clemency on my behalf since the moment I was thrown in there, but Odin will not even entertain the notion. And a prisoner is only given rewards if he is meant to be rehabilitated." Loki drew in a deep breath as though bracing himself before saying, "I am not meant to be rehabilitated. What I was given is nothing less than an excruciatingly long death sentence."


	18. Chapter 18

Clint did not respond for a minute, wanting to absorb and digest Loki's last remark. From the somber way in which it had been spoken, he realized that regardless of whether the statement was true or not, Loki, at least, believed it to be true. His haunted eyes were watching Clint, waiting to see how he would react. Clint reached out to gather him into his arms, and Loki succumbed without resisting.

"How can you be so sure?" he finally countered. "Maybe it's just a test, to see how you take your punishment... to see if you're really sorry for what you did."

Loki snorted, the sound muffled against Clint's shoulder. "If that were the case, he would have stripped me of my powers and sent me to some undeveloped world to learn my lesson – like he did with Thor."

Clint suddenly had a vivid recollection of the time Thor had cried out in anguish, having failed to lift his own hammer. If Clint did not have an axe to grind with Thor, it might have made him feel sorry for the god of thunder; he could not imagine how Loki would have fared in a similar situation.

"No, I was deemed to be beyond rehabilitation," Loki continued, "or perhaps Odin simply wished to bury me alive, to forget that I had ever existed. When I fell ill, I thought he might have had a change of heart... that he had decided to show me mercy by killing me outright, rather than keeping me trapped for eons in the dungeons." Loki's laugh sounded hollow and somehow brittle to Clint's ears. "I was wrong. The All-Father does not change his mind so easily, nor does he offer mercy to the undeserving."

"Why?" Clint asked. "I mean, why would he be so _cruel?_ I thought you were his _son_."

"Didn't you understand what my mother... what the queen said?" Loki retorted, forcing himself to use the more accurate term. "I'm not his son at all, but an abandoned frost giant he just decided to bring home... as a trophy, perhaps. I have no idea why he made me think I was his, when he could have raised me as a servant or kept me as a prisoner of war from the beginning. But my punishment for trying to rule a world – the birthright that _he_ had raised me to believe was mine, mind you – is no more cruel than hiding my true nature from me until I found out in a combat situation, when the shock of it put me off guard and very nearly got me killed by a monster. By one of my _fellow_ monsters, that is," Loki amended in a hard tone. "Perhaps he felt that... as a Jötun, my feelings on the matter were irrelevant. After all, I'd been left out to die on a cold rock – I should be grateful to him for even taking me in, shouldn't I? Regardless of how capriciously he treats me, I ought to be thankful just to be alive, right? Even if it _is_ in a tiny cage for all of my miserable existence."

Clint let Loki vent, realizing that he needed to take what the god of lies said with a grain of salt but feeling sympathetic toward him nonetheless. He offered what comfort he could, rubbing Loki's bare back with both hands, as he considered what else he could say to him.

"What about Thor?" he finally asked. "If he succeeds Odin as king, wouldn't he be able to grant you some freedom? Maybe even a full pardon?"

"Oh, yes – my _brother_," Loki said with a sneer. "The one who didn't even visit me in the dungeons until I was at death's door, and then only because Mother had _ordered_ him to. I'm sure he would rather forget that I ever existed. As if it weren't bad enough to find out I'm a frost giant, now I'm some sort of freak that can get _pregnant_ as well! I'm a hideous embarrassment to the entire family. No doubt they've been working hard to get the word out that I was adopted, especially since too many of the guards saw me being diagnosed with the child to cover it up. No, setting me free is the last thing Thor would ever do."

Knowing what Thor had done to Loki in the past, Clint could hear the pain behind his projected hatred. It made Clint burn with anger, too, but it reminded him that he had wanted to clear the air with Loki – to make sure that they came to an understanding about something of primary importance.

"You still love him, don't you," Clint said softly, trying to keep any accusation out of his voice. "Even after all he's done to you... you still love Thor."

Loki froze, his body going rigid and tense in Clint's arms.

"I-I d-don't... I _never_...! Why in all the nine realms would you... even _think_ something like that!" Loki sputtered.

"It's all right," Clint soothed. "You don't have to pretend – not with me, Loki. I _know_. I remember everything that happened when we were together. _Every_thing. Even the one memory you tried to hide from me... even though I was completely under your control." Clint kissed Loki's cheek, feeling the demigod tremble with conflicting emotions as he realized which incident Clint was referring to. "It's all right," he repeated. "I won't hurt you like he did. I would _never_ hurt you... at least not on purpose. And I'm not leaving you. If they won't let you out of your cell, I'll come visit you every day. That's a promise, Loki... and I keep my promises. You'll see."

Loki had gripped Clint's shoulders without thinking, his nails digging into Clint's skin, but Clint did not stop stroking Loki's back in gentle caresses.

"It's funny... when you singled me out, back in that lab," Clint went on, "you actually chose me because I reminded you of _him_, didn't you? There was something about me that made you think of Thor... that's why you decided to keep me instead of blasting me to bits like the other guys, isn't it?"

"I-I-ah..." Loki gulped. "I c-can't _imagine_ what you're talking about!"

"Hmm," Clint said mildly. "I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted... Sure, Thor is a big, strong guy, but he was a giant flake when it came to you. And not to be rude or anything, but he doesn't strike me as the sharpest tack in the box – know what I mean? So if that was my first impression, I'm gonna have to work on my people skills more."

"It was nothing like that," Loki protested, forgetting that in essence he was admitting to the rest of what Clint had said. "I only chose you because you had good reflexes and seemed to know your way around that place... like any good soldier would. And you proved me right: you made yourself useful immediately. What happened afterward was... an added benefit."

A wry grin crossed Clint's face. "So getting me in bed had nothing to do with my manly muscles or other... _attributes?_"

Loki flushed when he could not help glancing down at Clint's cock, which was sizeable even when flaccid.

"I did take into consideration your many _assets_ before inviting you to my bed, yes," he confessed. "I saw that you had more than one skill I could make good use of, so of course I used your talents to the fullest."

"Mm-hmm," Clint said agreeably. "So the fact that you had us humping like rabbits all that time... had nothing to do with your preference for hulking, muscular men who may or may not resemble a certain god of thunder, who also just so happens to have big, bulging muscles?"

"It. Does. Not." Loki spat out each word through gritted teeth. "The only thing you've gotten right is how dim he is! He wouldn't know his ass from his nose unless you handed it to him, and even then he might get confused. And as far as assets and _attributes_ go," he added, with a meaningful look at Clint's crotch, "he is no competition at all. You, my hawk, are far more _gifted_ in certain areas than any son of Odin could ever hope to be."

"Tell me more," Clint said, smirking. "I like it when you stroke my ego... among other things."

Loki took the hint and eagerly complied by grasping the human's cock and balls in his delicate fingers and massaging them as he continued. "You proved to me how intelligent and how utterly, ruthlessly _efficient_ you could be when presented with a task... and proper motivation. To be honest, I hadn't expected that from one of your species; you single-handedly improved my opinion of the human race."

"Is that right," Clint murmured with pleasure, languidly reaching down to stroke Loki's manhood with one hand, making him gasp and shudder with reawakened desire. "How else did I manage to surprise you?"

"Well... I didn't have high expectations... of a mere _mortal_," Loki drawled, having trouble concentrating as his attention was diverted to his nether regions, "but your sheer physical _stamina_... was a pleasant surprise. I had thought, initially... that I would need to _augment_ your... physical abilities... with a little bit of magic – some manipulation of blood flow, that sort of thing – but, as it turned out... it was entirely unnecessary. You performed quite well... without any assistance."

"Only because I had such a beautiful object for my attentions," Clint told Loki, then leaned in for a kiss. While their tongues slid together, words forgotten as they sought to taste each other more deeply than ever before, their hands became entangled around their two cocks, forming a writhing tunnel for Clint to thrust his thickening shaft into and stroke the underside of Loki's length. When at last they parted their lips for air, the previous conversation was all but forgotten in their haze of lust.


	19. Chapter 19

"Oh. My. God!" Tony exclaimed with part exasperation and part admiration. "They're going at it _again?_ I know Loki's supposed to have super-human abilities, but what is up with Hawkeye? Other than the obvious, I mean. The man is a _machine!_"

On the enormous screen, Clint was grunting like a wild boar as he pounded into Loki, who was on all fours on the bed and moaning with delight.

"Pheromones," Frigga informed Tony. "When we discovered Loki's unique condition, we also found that his body was producing thirty times the normal amount of pheromones as an Æsir female. We don't know if it is constantly at such a level for him, or if it is caused by his pregnancy, or if it only happens during his cycles of fertility... but exposure to it, especially over long periods of time, would no doubt have a significant effect on a Human."

"Well, that explains it," Tony said and puffed on his cigar. His spare suit had arrived some time ago, and everyone in the command center had been offered a cigar and a glass of champagne. Fury had given up on maintaining any semblance of order or professionalism, opting to smoke his cigar and fume (both literally and figuratively) while continuing to watch Loki for any suspicious moves. Frigga and Steve did not care to smoke, but they were sipping the champagne with appreciation.

When Loki had vented to Clint about his treatment by Odin and Thor, Frigga had begun to weep. Since she had already given her handkerchief to Loki, Steve handed her his own and settled into the seat beside her.

"Is it true?" he asked her, concerned and somewhat appalled. "Is it really a death sentence for him?"

"I trust it will not be," Frigga answered as she dabbed at her eyes. "I believe my husband only wants to see Loki change, to truly repent of his deeds... but I do not know. The way he has ignored him... it is not surprising that Loki thinks he has been disowned and... abandoned."

When Clint confronted Loki about still loving Thor, Steve tried to rationalize it at first as brotherly love; however, when Loki's responses began to prove otherwise, even Tony grew uncomfortable.

"Um... Is he saying what I think he's saying?" Tony asked, his eyebrows raised in consternation.

Frigga wiped away a few more tears before replying, "Yes. When the boys entered puberty... Loki was rather adept in spells of concealment by then... and Thor found him to be a willing partner in... experimenting. Of course we put a stop to it, but – my poor Loki! – it is obvious now that being so suddenly separated broke his heart. I waited in vain for him to come to me, to seek some comfort and guidance, but he tried to bear it all on his own... We should have told him then – _both_ of them – that they were not blood brothers... perhaps even allowed their love to flourish, to either fade or grow as it would have naturally. Instead we forced them apart, shocked by what had happened, and did not consider that their affection might have been an inevitable outcome of their being raised together. I never knew how deeply it had hurt Loki to lose Thor's... attentions."

"Well, if it's any consolation," Tony said, watching the screen, "he seems to have _all_ of Clint's attention now. Good God, he's doing the corkscrew! Damn... he's _good_... and if Loki wasn't lying, Hawkeye has better equipment than ol' Hammertime... maybe even better technique."

"Stark!" Steve scolded, appalled at Tony's crassness in Frigga's presence.

"What? You gotta admit, Clint is doing some impressive work there. God, if I'd known how talented he was, I would've let him fuck _me!_ Just listen to Loki – he's having the time of his life, dammit. If they went at it like this the last time, no wonder Loki got knocked up. Even _I_ might get pregnant after all that!"

"Would you just...!" Steve choked on all the things he wanted to say to Tony and instead fell silent.

As they watched, Tony in awe and Steve with reluctant but irresistible interest, Loki eventually went down on his elbows, then lowered his head to the bed, leaving only his ass raised up for his lover to access. Clint ceased drilling into that ass for a moment to tenderly rub his palms along Loki's back and ribs.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Mmm... more than all right," Loki replied with a wan smile. "Don't stop – I merely needed to take some weight off my shoulders."

"Getting tired?"

"Uh... a little," Loki admitted, surprising Frigga. She knew that he rarely ever admitted to any weakness; it was an indication of how much trust he had already placed in Clint.

The archer pulled out of him and rolled him over onto his side, then leaned down for a long, tantalizing kiss. From the way Loki was panting, it was clear that he wanted more, and Clint did not keep him waiting for long. Repositioning himself to lie behind his lover, Clint wrapped an arm under him to hold and caress his chest. After another lingering kiss over Loki's shoulder, he penetrated him again and wrapped his free hand around Loki's cock, pulling up on the loose skin in time to his thrusts while rubbing the sensitive tip with his thumb. The cries of ecstasy spilling out from Loki's lips increased in intensity as Clint continued to stimulate him.

Natasha and Bruce walked into the command center at that point, wondering what the others were doing – but never suspecting them of blatantly spying on the reunited lovers. The buzz Natasha had gotten from her vodka-and-tonics dissipated at once when she recognized the two men on the screen. Bruce began to mutter something profane, but his words died away as Clint intensified his fucking.

"Ah... Ah... Ah!" Loki whimpered with each mind-numbing stroke. His voice rose in proportion to his pleasure, with an almost feminine quality, which seemed to goad Clint to thrust ever harder and bite all over Loki's pale skin. Natasha felt as though her feet were rooted to the spot; she did not have the chance to leave the room before Loki was coming in bursts of uncontrollable exhilaration. As his high-pitched cries echoed through both rooms, Clint's guttural grunts grew louder and more spasmodic. His cock slid in and out of Loki in a frenetic rhythm for a minute, then suddenly drove deep and hard into that welcoming ass. Groaning like a giant tree toppling in a storm, Clint shoved his length all the way up to the balls and still continued to push – once, twice, three times – before letting out a long, satiated sigh. Loki was trembling in his arms, spent and thoroughly exhausted.

"So good," Clint murmured, licking and kissing the red marks he had made on Loki's back and shoulders as they quickly began to fade. "Every time... so damn good!"

"Mmm..." Loki agreed, twisting around to demand that some of those kisses be placed on his lips as well. Clint gladly obliged him, kissing every part of his lover's exposed skin, paying special attention to his dimples since they were now visible. Loki was smiling widely and without artifice. When he wrapped his arms around Clint, the chain on his wrists fell across the human's back like a possessive talisman. "My dearest hawk," he whispered.

Clint smiled back at him. "My beautiful, sexy... _lovely_ Loki." After engaging him in another slow, deep kiss, Clint combed back Loki's now sweat-soaked hair with the tips of his fingers. "The fairest of them all."

Loki's smile faded at once, replaced by a question that he dared not ask.

"Yes, you are," Clint answered with conviction, knowing the doubts that had crossed his lover's mind. "You are the most beautiful man I've ever met, and I still can't believe how lucky I am to make love to you."

Loki needed to swallow before he could reply, in an attempt to sound lighthearted that did not quite succeed, "Only because... you say the sweetest things."

"It's not hard when they're all true," Clint insisted, then planted another kiss by Loki's ear.

The god of mischief flinched and pulled away – or as far as he could while still being cradled in Clint's strong arms.

"What? What's the matter?"

Loki shook his head, not trusting his voice since his eyes were filling with tears. He drew in several shuddering breaths while Clint patiently waited for him to start talking again.

"You... You haven't even seen me... in my _true_ form... as a Jötun... a... a _frost giant_," Loki finally managed to say, disgust and loathing obvious in his tone.

Clint regarded him with calm blue eyes for a moment before telling him, "Then you're the most beautiful frost giant I've ever met."

"I'm the _only_ frost giant you've ever met!" Loki retorted.

"Yeah." Clint pulled him closer and ran one hand down Loki's hip to his thigh. "But I'll bet you have the nicest legs and ass of any of them."

Loki met Clint's gaze, almost against his will, and drank in the affirmation he found there. As his tears began to fall, forcing him to sniff, he muttered, "Damn hormones!" and seemed at a loss what to do. Clint roughly pulled him close, then wrapped all of his limbs around Loki's slender body and let him weep against his shoulder.


	20. Chapter 20

"I don't know about the rest of you," Tony announced to the room in general, "but I need another smoke after that. Cigar, anyone?"

"Perhaps I _will_ try one of those," Frigga ventured, stretching her limbs delicately before leaning back in her chair.

While Tony explained to the Asgardian queen the history and art of smoking a fine Cuban cigar, Natasha was finally able to tear her eyes away from the monitor, where Clint was kissing and caressing Loki with a tenderness he'd rarely shown. Taking a deep breath, Natasha was able to walk out of the command center without stumbling, at least. Her legs felt like jelly, but she managed.

Steve watched her leave and felt more concerned by her blank expression than if she'd been crying, as he would have expected. He caught Bruce's eye and raised his eyebrow in a mute question; Bruce only shook his head and helped himself to a flute of champagne. Still worried, Steve approached him under the pretext of refilling his own glass.

"You sure someone shouldn't be with her?" he asked quietly.

Bruce grimaced before replying, "Sometimes... you just need to cry it out. Alone."

Steve considered this statement and raised his glass in acknowledgement of its wisdom. "You're probably right."

"I'm no expert in women," Bruce admitted after taking a sip of his drink, "but she's about as tough as they come. I think she'll be all right. Although it was rather a shock to the system, walking in and seeing... _that_, on the screen. Hell, it was a shock to _my_ system, and I'm not even close to Clint."

"I hope he knows what he's doing," Steve said, glancing up at the monitor. It showed Loki resting on his lover's chest, half asleep, while Clint languidly rubbed his pale back with one hand. Steve added, hoping that Bruce would know more about the matter, "The queen mentioned something about feral gnomes affecting Hawkeye... Apparently, Loki has thirty times more of them than Asgardian females."

Bruce had taken another drink of champagne and suddenly spewed it out when his brain translated what Steve had meant. Everybody turned to stare as Bruce coughed, choked, and spluttered.

"I, uh... I'm all right, I'm fine," he managed to say, then took one look at Steve's stricken face and started to laugh. It was a helpless, uncontrollable laugh that lasted well over a minute and made tears roll down Bruce's cheeks. "I... I'm s-sorr—bah-hah-hah-hah-hah!"

"All right, what's so funny?" Tony demanded. "Share with the rest of the class, dammit."

Still chuckling, Bruce wiped the tears from his eyes and patted Steve's shoulder. "Sorry, Cap – it just hit my funny bone, and honestly, I needed a good laugh. Of course you wouldn't know about pheromones, since they weren't called that until, oh, fifty years ago. They're the chemical odors that organisms exude to send signals – like alarm or the location of food – to others of their kind. Sometimes they're so faint that they're hardly detectable, but even humans are affected by other humans' pheromones."

"Oh," Steve replied, feeling rather stupid.

"What'd you think they were?" Tony asked him.

"I wasn't sure, but it sounded like 'feral gnomes'..."

Tony snorted, attempted to stifle it, and burst out laughing all the harder. Bruce was just regaining his composure but seeing Tony lose it made him lapse into another fit of hilarity. Frigga approached to bestow a kind smile on Steve.

"Thor said you had been in cryogenic stasis for a good number of years – a lifetime for you Midgardians," she mentioned, balancing her lit cigar on a saucer Maria had supplied in lieu of an ashtray. "It is not surprising that you would be unaware of new advances in learning. But one of the difficulties for your race is that you cannot see the world as we do; if you were able, you would understand so much more."

With a flick of her free hand, Frigga caused sparks of light to appear – tiny, shimmering dots which seemed to hover and pulse with their own energy. There was a light mist of pink surrounding her, as well as blue mists around each of them, except Bruce was almost hidden by a dense cloud. Steve's plume was also rather thick.

"These scents can tell much about a person, if only you understand the code. It is like an invisible language with which we are speaking all the time," she said with a smile.

"And what are ours saying?" Tony asked, curiously stirring his own sparks floating in the air with his cigar.

"Yours and mine are saying we are content with our situation," Frigga answered. "We are open to friendship but not much more. Your friends' are telling a different story."

Bruce did not feel the least inclination to laugh any longer. He did, however, feel the urge to hit Steve, and hard, when the man cluelessly asked, "What story is that?"

"You have been without a sexual partner for a very long time," Frigga stated, her tone matter-of-fact and almost clinical. "You do not feel the lack as keenly as your friend, but both of you would be in better health if you could release your need. It is not good for a man or woman of _any_ species to go for long without pleasure."

Steve had blushed a bright red and was gaping as though he had swallowed his tongue. Seeing his discomfiture, Bruce was somewhat appeased, although he eyed his own sparkling cloud with weary distaste.

"Maybe you two should hook up and make like Hawkeye and his Loki-mama," Tony suggested, earning himself a glare from both men. "I'll even set up some cameras and record it for you – we could all make a killing on some hot man-on-man porn. Throw in a few clips of Hawkeye and Loki going at it like bunnies, and we've got ourselves a business!"

"You could actually _sell_ this sort of thing?" Frigga asked, astonished.

"Oh, yeah – _big_ bucks for beautiful boys," Tony assured her cheerfully.

"How interesting," she murmured. "On Asgard, nobody would _pay_ to simply view them."

"Why not?" Tony asked in turn, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion.

Frigga laughed, the musical sound brightening the entire room. "Why would you pay to _watch_ someone making love when it is so much better to be _making_ love oneself?"

"Well. You do have a point there," Tony conceded with a grin, then took another puff of his cigar.

* * *

Loki was content – happy, even. He did not want to think about having to go back to his tiny cell; he did not want to think about the next minute; he did not want to think at all. He simply wanted to enjoy the present, to luxuriate in the wonderful warmth of being wrapped in Clint's arms, listening to Clint's heartbeat with one ear pressed against Clint's chest. Everything else was irrelevant and, for the moment, insignificant.

"Hey," Clint's soft voice broke in on Loki's consciousness. "You hungry?"

"No," Loki answered without thinking. The fact was, he had not felt actual hunger in a long while.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. That was a pretty strenuous workout, even by Army standards."

Loki did not budge as he mumbled, "I suppose you will need to be fed if you're to remain at peak performance levels." He sighed as though he were being extremely inconvenienced. "Is there an establishment you deem fit for my refined palate?"

"Hardly," Clint said with an answering sigh. "Just the Mess. We're so far out in the middle of nowhere, there's not even a decent Chinese place nearby."

Loki gently nudged Clint's balls with his knee, a gesture of affection he had fallen into the habit of doing in their post-coital haze. "Well, if we're to leave this room at all, we need to shower."

"Yeah. Come on, I'll wash you like I used to; you just have to stand there."

"Are you implying that I'm lazy?" Loki asked, one eyebrow artfully arched.

"No, I'm not _implying_ anything – I _know_ you're a spoiled brat."

Clint did not manage to escape quickly enough to avoid the blows Loki rained down upon his head with a pillow. He slipped and stumbled to the floor, where Loki pursued him with a pillow in each hand. Clint was laughing silently, shaking so hard he could hardly draw a breath, but he managed to grab one of the pillows and fend off the other.

"All right! All right! What do you _want_ me to say?" he asked, still unrepentant.

"Oh, I don't know," Loki responded, caught off guard since he hadn't really thought about it. "Maybe that I don't _have_ to work hard because I'm smart enough not to."

"I don't know about that," Clint teased, "but I do know that you kept _me_ around to do the heavy lifting. You shouldn't _have_ to work hard since you've got _people_ to do it for you."

"Damn straight," Loki declared with a smirk, using the expression he had learned from Clint during their previous time together. "Get up, then, minion, and wash me!"

"Aye, aye, Sir," Clint answered.


	21. Chapter 21

While the couple disappeared off the monitor into the bathroom (which did _not_ have any hidden cameras, much to Tony's dismay), Maria offered to show Frigga to her room to freshen up before dinner. Frigga told Tony with a knowing smile that it was useless to hope for a peep show from her quarters, in not so many words, and casually informed Fury that his Midgardian devices would not work if she did not wish it. Fury acknowledged this with a mute inclination of his head as the queen left the command center with Maria. Tony decided to take the opportunity to work out some of the ideas spawned by his conversations with Frigga, using the facility's lab.

Bruce sauntered out into the hallway thinking to take a walk. He wanted to clear his head after being bombarded with so much unexpected information and visual input, and the beer and champagne he had imbibed earlier was not helping him now.

"Dr. Banner!" came Steve's voice from behind him, so he stopped to wait for the other man to catch up. "I was hoping to pick your brain, if you don't mind."

"Ah... what about?"

"About those... pheromones," Steve said, pronouncing the word carefully. "You obviously know more about them than I do."

"Well, I did study biochemistry," Bruce replied with a modest shrug. "What about them?"

"What exactly do they _do?_ You said humans are affected by them; how?"

"In a lot of different ways," he answered, slowly walking down the corridor with Steve falling into step beside him. "We know that in the animal kingdom, pheromones are used as signals to indicate a readiness for mating or to mark territory – like canines do with urine. Swarm insects like ants can leave a trail to food, and bees can send an alarm through the entire hive in seconds by secreting a specific pheromone. Obviously, human beings aren't as attuned to scents as those creatures, but we are affected by them – sometimes subconsciously. Women who live in a communal environment often notice that their ovulation cycles become synchronized. Men might be picking up on trace scents to tell them if women are more likely to mate with them... although that's not been definitively proven yet. Still, the arguments are there, and knowing how it affects other mammals, there's a strong case for it."

Steve digested this information. "So you're saying that there's not a lot of conclusive evidence, but... it's likely that they _do_ affect us?"

"I would have to say so, yes. Why?"

"I was just wondering... if they can impair someone's judgment. If, for instance, someone is putting out thirty times the normal level of them..."

"You're worried that Clint is being affected," Bruce stated, finally understanding Steve's concern. "You're worried that he only _thinks_ he's in love with Loki because the pheromones are driving him crazy."

"Something like that," Steve answered with a nod. "Is it possible?"

"Possible? ...Yes."

They came to an intersection so Bruce halted, then took the passage leading to the main bank of elevators.

"That high of a concentration would have to affect someone much more strongly than the usual faint amounts we send out," Bruce continued. "Whether it would be enough to actually _impair_ someone's judgment... that's hard to say." Reaching the elevators, he pushed the button and entered the first door that opened. "I'm going above ground; I need some fresh air after everything that's happened today. Care to join me?"

"I could use some fresh air myself," Steve said, entering the elevator. "So... how would you be able to tell if it's affecting someone to the point where they're making bad decisions based on... what they're feeling, subconsciously, from being affected by the pheromones?"

"I don't think there's a litmus test for that. And since individuals are affected differently by it – our degree of sensitivity to it as well as the amount of influence it has on our decision-making process is vastly different – it would be a subjective assessment at best. At this point, there's really no way for us to know." Bruce thought for a moment and added, "Queen Frigga might be able to give you a better answer. Asgardian science is light-years ahead of ours, and she seemed to have a more... _tangible_ grasp on the subject."

"Yes. But whether she would be forthcoming with the information is another matter," Steve pointed out. "Loki is her son, after all, and she seems to like the idea of Clint being with him."

"She wants her kid to be happy... Can't say that I blame her," Bruce said as he stepped out of the elevator onto the observation deck. The sun was just setting in a bright golden glow, with a pale half-moon visible overhead and a few stars beginning to shine in the east. Bruce walked over to the guard rail and bent over to lean on it with his arms crossed; Steve followed and gripped the top rail.

"I guess I'm worried because this is all happening so fast," Steve said after taking in a deep draught of the cool, clean air. "I can see where Clint would want to take care of the baby, of course, but... I don't understand how he can truly be in love with Loki – the man who captured him and made him betray everything he believes in."

"That _is_ a mind-bender, isn't it?" Bruce agreed. "When he jumped over the table to get at Loki, I thought he was going to strangle him and cause an intergalactic incident. I didn't expect him at all to... _kiss_ him."

"Exactly." Steve watched an airplane, a tiny dot far above them, speeding away to its destination. "I think we should at least tell Clint about Loki's pheromones, so he realizes that he might be influenced by them."

"We could. I'm not sure it would do any good if he's as far gone as he seems." Bruce straightened and turned to lean his backside against the railing, facing Steve. "In the end, Cap, love might be just a collection of chemicals; our attraction to other people might be affected more by chemistry than anything else. Right now Loki may have an unfair advantage over... other people," he amended, faltering as he almost mentioned Natasha by name, "but who's to say that's not real love?"

"It sounds so... scientific, and... _cold_... when you put it that way," Steve confessed, making Bruce smile.

"You're a romantic, then?"

"...I suppose I am."

"Well, just because we can explain how attraction _works_... doesn't make it any less amazing, or miraculous, when it spontaneously _happens_."

"Oh," Steve said, surprised by Bruce's remark. He considered it, then nodded. "I guess knowing how a flower grows doesn't detract from its beauty."

"Right. Or anything else. Like the beauty of a sunset: I know it's caused by atmospheric particles – dust and pollutants, if you come down to it – but I can still appreciate the colors."

"Careful, Doctor," Steve warned with a grin. "You're beginning to sound like a romantic yourself."

"Well, I... I suppose I am," Bruce admitted with an answering grin. "But the scientific side of me did notice that nobody else in the room felt compelled to kiss Loki... so maybe their attraction runs deeper than pheromones, after all."

"Oh!" Steve said, startled by the thought. "You're right... nobody else felt that kind of attraction towards Loki. And Clint had been separated from him all this time." He smiled in relief. "Maybe there _is_ something more than chemicals making him act that way."

"I think so... at least I hope so." Bruce's smile turned somewhat ironic as he added, "If pheromones affected us that dramatically, I'd be getting kissed all the time – even by perfect strangers – if the cloud Queen Frigga showed me is real."

"Hm... I wouldn't be far behind you," Steve said, "although I'm not sure I _want_ to be kissed by strangers."

Bruce laughed. "No, I wouldn't recommend it. Not in this day and age, anyway – too many nasty diseases have spread across the globe."

"Oh... right. They told me you were doing charity work in India... You must have seen a lot of difficult cases there."

Bruce nodded soberly. "Yes. What was most frustrating was knowing that there were cures available, even preventative vaccines, but seeing the people still suffering from curable illnesses."

"Well, I'm sure you helped a lot of people – people who wouldn't have gotten help if not for you. That's very admirable."

Blushing slightly, Bruce turned away and shrugged, "Not really. I was just... trying to atone for my sins... for the damage I had done."

"You don't have to atone for something you did when your body was out of your control," Steve protested, feeling horrified since he had brought up the subject.

"That's kind of you to say," Bruce replied with a faint smile, "but regardless of how much control I had or didn't have at the time, the fact is I hurt a lot of people. And when you have that sort of guilt on your conscience... you have to do _something_ to make up for it. At least, that's how I feel."

"That's because you're a good man," Steve said, reaching out to grip Bruce's shoulder and making him laugh in a self-deprecating way.

"Well, I try to be, if that counts for anything." Bruce noticed that Steve had stepped closer to him – invading his personal space, as it were – which made him feel slightly uneasy and uncomfortable. He coughed to dispel his own awkwardness and stood up. "I think it must be about time for dinner."

"That sounds good. Shall we?" Steve asked with a charming smile, and Bruce nodded and followed him back into the elevator.


	22. Chapter 22

Clint thought it was rather endearing how self-conscious Loki became in the shower. The pregnant demigod had been so caught up in their love-making that he had forgotten his condition; when he looked down and saw his protruding stomach, he tried uselessly to cover it with a washcloth. Clint snatched the washcloth from his hands.

"Hey!" he said, getting up into Loki's downcast face so he would have to meet Clint's eyes. "You're beautiful, okay? And I'm looking forward to watching your belly grow huge, and I'm gonna kiss every beautiful inch of it, all right? The bigger and heavier this kid gets, I want you to remember it's because _I_ was inside of you, because _my_ cock was inside your ass, that we've got this baby – this amazing, mind-blowing miracle of a kid. All right?"

Loki nodded, not trusting his voice to speak without wavering. Clint rewarded him by kissing his lips, then trailing kisses down to his chest, taking time to tease his nipples, and kneeling at Loki's feet to kiss all over the small bump. Loki thought the fetus might have rolled over inside its protective sac but was not sure enough to mention it. He was relieved beyond words, anyway, that the archer did not think his changing body was ugly. Loki had not even dared to hope that his former captive might be willing to become his lover again, let alone be so enthusiastic in anticipating the birth of their child. He kept waiting to wake up and find that it had all been a dream, while wishing the dream would never end.

Clint made short work of cleaning them both off once he started the process, his usual efficiency mixed with loving, tender gestures. Loki was not sure why the human pinched his buttocks, but the sly smile on Clint's face told him it was meant in fun, so he retaliated by pinching Clint's at the next opportunity. Hearing his lover laugh was like music to his ears; his kisses were all the sustenance Loki's hungry soul needed. But even though he felt no need for food, he knew Clint, as a mortal, could not go for long without it, so he agreed without much thought to accompany his lover to "the Mess," as he called it. Loki just wanted to be close to Clint, knowing that every second they could spend together was precious.

Clint grasped Loki's hand and intertwined their fingers in an impulsive and somewhat uncharacteristic display of intimacy, but he had done so with the understanding that Loki craved affection – he _needed_ to be reassured of Clint's love for him. It still irked him how quickly Thor had abandoned his supposed brother and lover, leaving Loki with more self-doubt than he let on and forcing him to compensate with false arrogance and pride. Just like when Clint had first found Natasha – defensive and belligerent because her experiences had taught her to distrust all others – once he had realized how insecure Loki was, Clint not only could relate to him better but also felt protective of him. After seeing through the mask to Loki's vulnerable heart, Clint could no more abandon him than he could have an injured child.

As they walked down the corridors to the Mess Hall, passing other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents returning from their dinner, Loki noticed how many of them stared at him and Clint, especially at their clasped hands. He thought Clint would let go at any moment, but when the human steadfastly held on to him, Loki felt a long-forgotten warmth spreading through his chest. It did not matter that Clint's ruddy face seemed a bit tinged with pink; the important thing was that he did not let go in spite of his embarrassment. Loki walked a little closer to him yet, struggling to focus on Clint's running commentary about the layout of the facility.

He knew they were close to the Mess when they turned a corner and heard the low roar of mingled sounds, cutlery clashing and multiple conversations going on at once. The next moment the smell of cooking oil assaulted Loki's nostrils, and suddenly Loki remembered that he had not had the bile removed from his body since that morning. It had built up for hours now, and the scent of fried foods caused his stomach to lurch, churn, and traitorously rebel.

Loki did not even have the chance to call out Clint's name – he simply yanked on the archer's hand as he turned back and retched, pressing his free hand to his mouth. Clint realized instantly what was happening and wrapped his arm around Loki's waist, half-leading and half-hauling him away from the cafeteria.

"I'm sorry! I should've thought... Are you all right?" he asked, pulling Loki around the corner again and looking into his pallid face. Loki shook his head, feeling the bile rising in his throat. "Come on," Clint said, dragging him toward a door and then knocking on it. When there was no answer, he pulled it open and led Loki inside. To the demigod's relief, it was a bathroom, with a row of sinks he could just manage to stagger to before the violent eruption began. As the green bile hit the sparkling porcelain, Clint turned on the water and stroked up and down Loki's back, helping him relax enough to allow nature to take its course. When the worst was over, Clint rinsed some paper towels in the next sink, then used them to wipe the clammy sweat off Loki's brow.

"Poor baby," Clint murmured, concern furrowing his brow. "I'm sorry, it's my fault – I should've known better than to bring you down here! I'm _so_ sorry..."

Loki could not answer; he was having trouble even standing, since his body was trembling with the sudden battle that had raged through it. Clint saw him swaying on his feet and reached out to embrace him, letting Loki lean against his solid frame until he could catch his breath. Resting against his lover's body, trusting in his support, Loki felt his world go from upheaval to calm. The clean scent of the shampoo and body wash on Clint's skin was a welcome distraction which also erased the lingering odor memory of the grease. Loki inhaled deeply as he clung to the archer.

They were both startled when the door was flung open and Frigga flew into the privy.

"Loki! My poor darling!" she cried, encircling both men in her arms. "I'm sorry I could not get here sooner. Hold still, my dearest, and I'll rid you of the rest of that nastiness."

"Mother, you don't have to—" Loki began, but both Frigga and Clint were propping him against the sink counter in preparation for the procedure. Loki swallowed and acquiesced, grateful to have one of Clint's hands steadying his back and the other gripping his own. He squeezed it lightly as he felt the viscous fluid being drained out of his stomach and disposed of into nothingness, then sighed with relief. "Thank you," he said in a subdued tone, feeling some strength returning to his limbs and realizing Frigga had done that as well.

Maria had followed the queen into the bathroom and was observing them with interest.

"The smell from the Mess did him in," Clint explained to her. "Sorry we had to use the ladies' room – it was the closest."

"That's quite all right," she replied. "In fact, we were just coming to tell you that we have a separate dining room prepared for our guests. It will be quieter and I hope less... problematic."

"That sounds lovely. Thank you," Loki managed as he stood up straight on his own. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to... clean up, for a moment."

"Of course," Maria said before leaving. There was a brief, slightly awkward moment when both Clint and Frigga lingered, each expecting to be the one to assist Loki; Frigga smiled and withdrew first.

"I know you are taking good care of my son," she told Clint, laying a hand on his shoulder, "but we should set the times when I need to remove the bile from his stomach. His body is changing on a cellular level to accommodate the child, so the bile is a combination of dead tissue that is being discarded in favor of new tissues – such as his womb – and the waste eliminated by the child itself. His sickness is much worse than for a woman, who already has those organs; Loki is having to grow them now, and quickly, to keep pace with the child's development."

"I can see that it's quite draining," Clint remarked while they both watched Loki wash his hands and face, then cup some water to rinse his mouth. Clint grabbed more paper towels out of the dispenser and handed them to Loki, who dried himself off with care.

"I'm sorry to trouble you like this," he said, turning to Frigga. "I should have remembered that it would have built up again by now."

"It's all right, dearest. You must have been a little... _distracted_."

Both men blushed, even though Frigga's smile was innocence itself.

"Well, now, if you are ready, let us not keep our hosts waiting," she declared, then led the way out of the bathroom. This time Clint offered Loki his entire arm, to lean on for support if necessary, and Loki gladly wrapped his own around it.


	23. Chapter 23

Loki was charming at dinner, assisting Frigga in keeping the conversation light and engaging, but Clint noticed that he merely picked at his food, even though it was the best the facility's kitchen could offer. The steak he had ordered cooked medium well rather than medium rare, which had been his preference the last time he had visited Earth (although Clint realized why his tastes might be different now), and he ate maybe half of it. The only thing Loki finished was his small portion of salad, and that over time. The wine he did not touch, asking instead for hot herbal tea – something he had discovered and enjoyed during his previous stay.

Loki caught Clint staring at him often but only smiled in reply, slipping his hand onto Clint's knee to reassure him that he was fine. Clint wasn't buying it, of course, but he didn't want to press Loki in front of the others. Tony and Bruce were gleaning precious nuggets of scientific information from both of their Asgardian guests; Steve was courteous and respectful, even to Loki; and Fury, while not thrilled to be hosting two powerful aliens (one of whom was a known aggressor), was at least being professional.

Clint turned to the end of the table where Maria and Natasha were seated. Natasha seemed to be avoiding his gaze, which was understandable, although it lay heavily on his heart. They had been an item at one time and he still considered her his best friend, but they had agreed long ago that their relationship was best kept casual. The nature of their work, and the hectic schedule it demanded, made a conventional romance impossible. And the one time Clint had brought the subject up, Natasha had made it clear that she did not intend to settle down and become a mainstream domestic goddess. The mere thought of driving children to soccer practice every day in a minivan, she had declared, was enough to make her put a bullet in her own head. Clint did not need any proof, and at the time he had agreed with her full-heartedly.

And yet it was strange how happy and excited he now felt about the prospect of having a child – a son, if Loki's extrasensory perception was correct. He found himself looking forward to fatherhood, teaching his boy the sorts of things fathers had been teaching their sons for time immemorial: how to play catch, how to build a fire, how to fish, how to hunt. The last one in particular sparked his imagination (while the conversation over dessert turned to technical things beyond his ken or interest) and set him to thinking about different bows that would be easy for little hands to handle. He had almost finished designing the perfect custom-built bow in his mind when he saw Loki put a hand on his stomach. The brief shadow that crossed the demigod's face spoke of uncertainty and concern.

Clint placed his own hand on Loki's belly and leaned close to whisper in his ear: "It'll be all right. You'll see. We can work anything out... _together_."

The grateful smile Loki gave him was so lovely that Clint kissed him without thinking. The conversation around them skidded to a halt.

"Geez, guys – get a room!" Tony complained, breaking the awkward silence. "Oh, wait – you already _have_ a room. Couldn't you wait until you got back to it, at least?"

An even more awkward silence ensued, since all of them knew exactly what the pair had been doing in said room. However, not knowing about the hidden camera, Clint retorted, "I wouldn't have pegged you as a squeamish one, Stark. Besides, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

"Well, ah... while that statement is open for debate," Tony hedged, "maybe you should save your best material for the main performance?"

"Oh, I _am_," Clint said with a grin as he turned to Loki. The demigod pursed his lips and let a sultry smirk grow across his features. For an instant, they were lost in each other's eyes.

"That reminds me," Frigga began, making the others wonder what had actually reminded her to ask, "earlier you had mentioned, Clint, that you intend to visit Loki every day. How were you planning on doing that?"

"Well, I hadn't really thought it through," Clint confessed, "but I'm a firm believer that 'Where there's a will, there's a way.' I guess I was hoping to find some sort of work over in your world so I could be close by... not that there would be much call for a Human, I suppose, since we're so much less... _advanced_ than your people, but I don't care what I do as long as it's honest work."

"There is always work to be found, even though it might be menial," Frigga assured him. "But I have been told that you are an excellent archer. The palace guard has a special division of archers, the Herǫr Drengr, which might suit you best."

"Oh, uh... that's very, um... kind of you," Clint replied, "but I'm not sure... I'd be up to snuff, so to speak, for your people... being a Human and all..."

"You would be a valuable asset to them," Loki suddenly put in. "I know you will – I've seen you shoot."

"Then you should apply to the chief archer," Frigga followed up. "They test all applicants, of course, so you would be accepted or denied according to your skill alone. If I grant you permission to dwell in Asgard, they cannot deny you solely for being Human."

"That's... That's very generous of you. Thank you," Clint said to the queen.

"Does this mean I should expect a letter of resignation in the morning?" Fury asked, his expression stony.

"Yes," Clint answered without hesitation, making Loki start. "I'm sorry, Commander."

"I don't see why it should mean he must resign his post here," Frigga interrupted. "Why could he not be working with our military as a liaison? Perhaps as a man 'on loan' from Midgard." She gave Fury her most disarming smile and added, "I can think of at least _one_ Asgardian warrior who would be glad to serve as a man 'on loan' _to_ Midgard in his place... if it's agreeable with you."

"Are you saying... you would have Thor be 'on loan' to S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Fury asked in disbelief.

"I think he could be persuaded to, yes. Love is a great incentive, after all," she said demurely.

"No offense, Hawkeye, but it sounds like we're getting the better end of the deal," Tony declared, rubbing his hands together. "But hey, if _every_body's gonna be happy, it's a win-win!"

"Yeah," Clint answered, but his eyes were locked with Loki's. "Seems like things will work out, after all."

Loki smiled, but Clint sensed that it was somewhat forced. He did not try to delve into the reason then, however, knowing that he would have plenty of time later to ply his secretive lover with questions.

As the party left the dining room, Frigga expressed a desire to see the Midgardian constellations again, so Maria led her up to the observation deck, and Tony asked Bruce to help him experiment with some of the concepts they had gathered from Asgardian technology. Steve and Fury were escorting Loki and Clint back to their room when Clint stopped at an intersecting hallway.

"You go on ahead," Clint said, trying to unwrap Loki's arm from his own. "I'll be right there."

"What? Where are you going?" Loki demanded, alarmed.

"I'm going to pick up some Hooah bars," Clint explained. "You hardly ate anything at dinner, and you're supposed to be eating for _two_ now." He gave Loki a peck on the cheek while rubbing his belly affectionately. "The bars aren't the best tasting things, but they've got a lot of nutrition in them. Even if you only eat a few bites, it should help."

"Let me come with you," Loki said, not releasing his hand. The undisguised longing in his wan face tugged at Clint's heart, making him pull Loki down into a deeper, more expressive kiss. After a minute, Steve coughed and Fury cleared his throat. Clint grinned as he pulled away from Loki but did not take his eyes off his lover.

"You're so beautiful, I could do you right here," he whispered.

"And I would let you," Loki murmured back.

"Gentlemen, if you'd like to order _room service_," Fury began, not bothering to suppress a longsuffering sigh, when Steve started walking down the other hallway.

"You mean the new Logan Bars – the D-Ration bars, right?" he called back over his shoulder.

"Um, yeah." Clint wrenched his gaze off of Loki for a moment. "Cap, you don't have to..."

"I know." Steve turned to them with a chuckle. "You two lovebirds go on. I'll knock three times and leave them at the door."

"You're a prince, Captain," Clint told him, meaning it. "A real prince!"

Loki watched Steve's retreating figure with a thoughtful expression for a moment before Clint tugged on him to lead him back to the bedroom. Fury followed with another sigh, wondering what pantheon of gods he had angered to be forced to chaperone two grown men who could barely keep from making out in the corridors of a military installation.


	24. Chapter 24

Once back in their room, Clint turned down the bed for the first time; earlier they had made love on the bedspread and had never gotten into the bed itself. He stripped out of his clothes while Loki watched appreciatively, then undressed Loki like a servant – the way Loki had trained him to during their previous time together. This time, however, Clint peeled through the layers of Asgardian clothing with less haste and more innuendo, placing kisses on various spots of the bared skin as a foretaste of what he intended to do later. Feeling Loki shiver under his lips was a thrill that set the archer's heart pounding.

Although his cock was clamoring for action as they lay side-by-side in bed, since he had already satisfied it more than once today, Clint wanted to take things slow. He knew it was tantamount to blackmail to question Loki now, when his lover was just as eager for a good fucking as he was, but he wasn't sure he could get a straight answer out of him otherwise.

"Hey," he said, halting their kissing session before it got too heated. "What was eating at you during dinner?"

"Ah... what?" Loki asked in turn, confused by the expression. "Oh, you mean... what was troubling me?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing. I simply didn't have much of an appetite after... what had happened earlier."

"That's not all," Clint insisted, though he softened the impact of his words by stroking Loki's bare back. "There were a few times when you looked... as if you were miles away. Worlds, even. What's bothering you?"

Loki attempted to shrug but could not look Clint in the eye. Taking that as a warning sign, Clint pulled him into an embrace.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yes... although I'm not sure why."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... this is all so... _strange_." Loki kept his hands on Clint's shoulders and his cheek pressed against Clint's grizzled jaw as he began to unravel his shroud of mystery. "I never expected you to claim this child as yours, let alone want to be with me again... I feel like this is all a dream, or some elaborate delusion I've tricked myself into believing... or maybe someone else has cast a spell on me, I don't know. If that's what it is, I hope I never wake up."

The fierce kiss he gave Clint left a mark on his neck. Feeling the sting, Clint groped for the right words to say.

"Why _wouldn't_ I claim my kid? I mean, it's obviously mine, whether I claim him or not... unless you were cheating on me with some other guy, and I know you couldn't have – not while we were together, since you didn't have the time. And you've been in an Asgardian prison ever since." Clint pulled back a bit so he could study Loki's face. "And why _wouldn't_ I want to be with you again? You're beautiful... smart... sexy... a bit sarcastic, sure, but I like that in a man."

Loki smiled at the joke but responded gravely, "I tried to subjugate your entire world, and as soon as my spell on you was broken, you fought to defend it... and you even tried to kill me. You couldn't have, of course, with such a small explosion, but you didn't know that."

Clint realized they had come to the crux of the matter. "That was before I remembered everything. I was still dazed and confused," he protested. "I only knew my world was under attack, so yeah, I was fighting to save it. That's just instinct."

"Yes. A warrior's instinct."

"And... you'd hurt me, you know. You'd messed up my mind so badly, I wasn't sure which way was up when I came out of it. I thought if I could put an arrow through your head, I would sleep better at night."

Loki averted his eyes before answering, "It was never my intent to harm you. Had I released you from the spell myself, you would not have felt so... disoriented."

"Would you have? Released me?"

"Perhaps... eventually. Once I could count on your loyalty without resorting to magic."

Clint leaned in to kiss Loki's lying lips – the first time he had ever used that particular tactic of interrogation.

"No," Loki whispered after a moment. "I would never... have released you. You were too valuable to me. And you would never have given me your loyalty of your own free will." He swallowed hard, remembering that day all too clearly. "I knew, of course, the instant you were wrested away. I had just pressed the button to eject Thor out of the craft... I thought if I could kill him, I would feel better too. Funny, that – how we both sought revenge for the pain we had been inflicted..."

"Did it help?"

"No," Loki admitted, squeezing his eyes shut against the memory. "I just knew... I'd lost my brother forever. I tried to tell myself... I didn't need him anymore, because I had you... and then... I lost you as well. I was... alone again. As I always have been. After all, you were little more than a puppet on my strings."

"Loki," Clint began, but the demigod smirked and stopped him with a gentle kiss.

"I'd deluded myself into half-believing that it was true... that you were really my lover, not my pawn. Such a lovely lie... but a lie nonetheless."

"You were lonely," Clint said – a statement, not a question. Loki did not deny it.

"I should have realized... you would leave me. Even if I had kept you in my thrall forever, I would have known, in my heart of hearts, that you would rebel against me at the first opportunity. I might have controlled your mind and your actions, but not your heart. And so, when I sensed that our bond had been broken... that you weren't coming to rescue me like the prince in a Midgardian fairy tale... I should not have been so surprised."

Clint grimaced at remembering the stories he had told Loki to entertain him. His then-master had devised the plan for his own capture after hearing some of them and teased Clint that he would be the noble prince, come to rescue his captured darling.

"But you _were_ surprised?" Clint asked, wondering how deep Loki's self-delusion had been.

"Perhaps 'surprised' is not the best word... but it took my breath away. And it left me off my guard enough for the little man to shoot me with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new weapon. That stung – perhaps my pride more than my body. But it reminded me that I had no time to mourn your loss."

"You... 'mourned' for me?"

"Yes. Later. Alone in my cell." Loki sighed and slid his chained hands down Clint's chest. "I wondered if things might have turned out differently... if only you had been at my side till the end. But it seems the Norns have cursed me in this, as in all other things."

"What do you mean?"

The nonchalant shrug Loki gave did not convince Clint in the least that he did not care.

"It seems I'm fated to have my lovers taken from me... usually by force. Thor, you... Anybody I have ever cared about has been ripped away from me, sooner or later. The only one who seems immune to the curse is my mother... the queen. But not even the Norns can curse _her_. She is too pure of heart."

Clint combed back Loki's hair as he considered what he had just heard. "So who else has been taken from you?" he finally asked.

"There was once a palace guard... some years older than I. Handsome. Bright. From a good family. He kept watch over me as I spent my evenings in the library... often until quite late, but he never seemed to mind. He asked me about the books I was reading, and I was impressed with how many he had read himself. Thor had long discarded me for the delights of women, and... Svástir was kind. I thought, perhaps, I might be happy with him..."

"What happened?" Clint prompted when Loki trailed off.

"His parents found him a wife," Loki replied, his tone bitter. "One with a dowry fit for a king. Her father was a merchant in need of a capable assistant, and his father was convinced he would do better in business than as a soldier."

"But... didn't he love you?"

"I had believed him to," Loki said, and a small sigh escaped his lips. "I had certainly made no secret of my affection for him... but he said I was too young to know my own mind. Imagine that! If I didn't know my own mind at _any_ age, I should be a fool indeed!"

Clint did not allow Loki to distract him with that remark, but held him closer in his arms.

"So he married the girl? When he could have been the lover of a prince? Possibly even... the future king of Asgard?"

"Yes. And which is the greater fool, I shall let you decide."

"I won't be so stupid," Clint told him.

Loki gazed at him with haunted eyes. "You won't need to be. I will never be let out again from my cell."


	25. Chapter 25

"You don't know that," Clint countered. "Things change. People change. Once the baby's born, even Odin might have a change of heart. It's... well, it's the closest thing he's got to a grandchild, right?"

Loki snorted, a sardonic grin twisting his features. "Why would he even _begin_ to claim the child? He has made it clear that I am not his son, and by now all of Asgard – if not all the nine realms – must know that I am Jötun. And then you, the father, are a Midgardian mortal. Even if the Norns, in some fickle fancy of generosity, grant that the child be powerful and brilliantly intelligent... it would not be enough to tempt the All-Father to give it more than a passing glance. And even if he _were_ to show more than a cursory interest in the child, it would have no bearing on _my_ status." Loki's slender fingers gripped Clint's shoulders as he insisted, "I will never have another reprieve from my punishment. This time I have with you... is the most precious of my life. Every word, every touch... I will cherish forever."

"You told me that... once before," Clint said, his brow furrowed. "Just before you erased my memory."

"Yes. You were not supposed to remember that," Loki replied, chagrined.

"But I'm glad I do, now. That's what made me fall in love with you, you know – realizing _why_ you were doing what you were doing."

Loki, startled, looked at his lover askance. "And why was that?"

"You had put me under your mind control because... well, to start with, so I would do your bidding and get what you needed; but also because you were afraid that without it, I would abandon you and leave you hurting... like Thor did. Like what's-his-name, the guard, did. You were just scared and... _tired_ of being hurt."

Loki blinked and stared at Clint blankly for a long moment, then admitted, "Yes... I suppose I was. And my fears were well-founded, of course – you shot at me the first chance you had. Even Thor, for all his arrogance and cruelty, never tried to _harm_ me... until I had attacked him first."

"I won't apologize for that, Loki," Clint told him. "You were trying to take over my world at the time, after all. But I understand why you were doing that, too: you were trying to prove to your dad that you could do a better job of being a king than Thor... maybe even trying to prove to yourself that you didn't need your dad's help to _get_ a kingdom. And while I would normally object to having my world conquered by anybody, some of your plans that you told me about – like putting an end to war and making sure everybody had enough food – sounded really good. Hell, if I had powers like yours and had been raised to be a king, I might have tried the same thing. Not that it would have worked, you know, and not that I'm condoning how you went about it, but still... I can understand why you tried."

As Clint spoke, a sad smile had crept into Loki's face. The god of lies took a deep breath before revealing a truth, but it had been a long time since anyone had even _tried_ to understand him, and he was startled to realize that he _wanted_ this human to understand him.

"You're very perceptive for a mortal," he said without meaning to slight his lover. "Of course, you've seen more of my heart than any other... more than I intended you to, at times. And so you understand me better than any other, except perhaps my mother. But those aren't the real reasons why I attacked Midgard." Loki laughed, and it came out as a bitter sound. "I didn't even _want_ to rule Midgard. Why would I? Such a tiny, backward planet. I might as well have ruled Svartalfheim, a barren wasteland. There's little glory in conquering and subduing an anthill."

"Wh-What?" Clint asked, confused. "You didn't even _want_...? But then... _why_...?"

"It was the only choice I had," Loki said, his tone quiet and resigned. "I had been rescued from the Void by Thanos... a being so powerful that I cannot even describe him in a way you would understand. He deduced my origins easily enough – my Asgardian garb told him that much – and demanded that I help him gain access to the royal weapons vault of Asgard, where there are many treasures which would make him even more powerful. I... refused. Despite all I had suffered at the hands of Odin... and despite the fact Asgard had never been my true home, any kindness I had ever known had come from my – from Queen Frigga." Loki's chest tightened as he corrected himself, but he forged on. "I knew that once Thanos gained new powers, he would want to test them, and he would not have spared the queen solely for any... sentiment, I might have expressed. He... tortured me, but I chose death over betraying the only one who had ever loved me."

"Loki," Clint whispered, stroking his hair. The demigod smiled.

"It was not a hard decision. I had already chosen death, had given myself up to it. The pain... that was another matter." Loki rubbed his left wrist, just above the manacle, although there were no marks left on his skin. "I thought I would go mad... Thanos could have killed me at any time, but he preferred to make sport of me... and he was also sifting through my mind, as a child might sift through sand looking for shells and pebbles. He found something he thought useful: my hatred of Midgard. Not even of Midgard as a whole, really, just... Jane Foster. And he had already sensed the presence of the Tesseract there, so when he relieved me from the pain and offered me instead the task of conquering Midgard, to present him with the Tesseract... I gladly agreed."

Clint stared at him, feeling as though the last pieces of a puzzle were finally fitting into place, allowing him to see the entire picture.

"So you attacked Earth... so you wouldn't have to attack Asgard," he concluded for him. "You chose to attack the woman you hated, so your mother wouldn't be harmed."

Loki smirked, attempting to look carefree, although he fooled no one. "It's not so difficult a choice, is it? Especially when you put it that way. One minor, backward realm scarcely makes a difference in the grand scheme of things. And Thanos had promised me a kingdom, as paltry as it might be... More importantly, it bought me time."

"Time? For what?"

"To do something. To make a plan. To warn... Queen Frigga, or at least to remove her to a safe place. I could have lured her away from the palace... There's not much she would not do for me. And as long as I continued to make myself useful to Thanos, I could hope to protect her." Loki sensed Clint's arguments before he even spoke them. "I know, you think I was a fool to believe Thanos would keep me as his lackey for long, useful or not – but I never deluded myself on that point. I knew he would kill me when my usefulness had run its course, perhaps even sooner... but I was also gambling on Odin putting up a good fight. He would have the weapons in the vault to use against the Tesseract, and the old man still has a few tricks that might keep Thanos at bay. That, too, would buy me some time, and if Thanos were injured or weakened... I might have found an opportunity to tip the balance of power. I would have understood more about the workings of the Tesseract by then and might have found some way to use it against him."

"Sounds like a long shot to me," Clint said, feeling his blood run cold at the dire situation his lover had faced.

"It was," Loki agreed, "but it was better than having no chance at all. If I had led Thanos into the vault, he would have obliterated the Destroyer in moments, and once he had gained the powers from the treasures in the vault... there would have been nothing left of Asgard. And he might have chosen to destroy _me_ along with it. So you see, I truly had no other choice but to invade Midgard."

"It was the devil's alternative," Clint slowly stated, "but you're right – it was better than no chance at all."

"Neither I nor Thanos had expected to meet any real resistance, of course, so it was a shock to have the Chitauri defeated," Loki continued. "I had wondered about their dependence on their power system... They do not eat food for sustenance, like most races do, but take their energy directly from their mother ship's catalytic distributor. It was a critical flaw, but they never expected your Midgardian weapons to penetrate so deep past their defenses." Loki reflected for a moment and added, "I suppose I owe you and your friends _some_ gratitude... for releasing me from Thanos' grip. Although if he finds another way to acquire a weapon like the Tesseract and uses it to attack Asgard, I will be in no position to save myself."

"You think he might attack again?"

"I am certain he will... when the time is right. He will wait until he knows he has the advantage."

"Have you warned Odin?" Clint demanded. Loki shrugged, and this time his nonchalance was genuine.

"No. He's never asked. And any information I have on Thanos is... rudimentary. I know nothing that would help to defeat him."


	26. Chapter 26

When Thor arrived at Jane Foster's apartment, escorted by a small contingent of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, he was confronted at the door by a rather upset Jane demanding answers. He explained that he had been compelled to deal with the aftermath of Loki's invasion, taking his brother back to Asgard immediately to be judged by the All-Father, and that he had known Jane was safe thanks to Phil Coulson's arrangements. It mollified Jane enough that she invited him into her apartment. The agents remained outside; though it irked Thor that they did not leave altogether, he had more important matters on his mind. He wished to ask Jane to come to Asgard with him but did not know how she would respond to his request.

"So," Jane began while nervously putting things away, "why are you here now? Has everything been taken care of?"

"Well... it's a... complicated story," Thor hedged. "Loki had some... unfinished business, in a manner of speaking, with one of the men he had captured..."

"Oh, he came to apologize? That's nice," Jane said with a hint of sarcasm.

"No, not exactly... Uh... May I sit?"

Jane nodded and cleared off the cluttered table. She had only been given a few hours' notice that Thor was on his way, so she had not been able to finish cleaning the entire apartment. Thor took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Just after I was banished from Asgard and sent here to Midgard, Loki found out that he was... adopted. That he is not even Æsir, but a... a Jötun. We call them the frost giants, for they are large, and they live in the realm of Jötunheim. My father had found him as an infant during the last war and brought him home to be his son. I did not know of this until after I returned to Asgard. I had always believed him to be my true brother..."

An image of Loki as a child, scampering around the columns in the great hall as Thor chased him, came to his mind. Loki had loved having fun, even if it meant breaking a few rules, and Thor had been right there with him – if he hadn't instigated the trouble himself. Thor could practically hear Loki's giggles echoing in the large space, see Loki's smirk as he turned back to see how much distance he had placed between himself and his less light-footed brother. Thor could almost reach out and grab Loki's tunic.

"Well... that explains a lot, doesn't it?" Jane said, breaking into his reverie. "I mean it explains why he could try to kill you in cold blood, if he knew you weren't his _real_ brother."

"Yes, I suppose it does... although just because we are not related by blood, does not mean he is not my brother. For all his faults... I still loved him. He... He was the only brother I had."

Jane nodded sympathetically. "Until he turned psycho and tried to take over the Earth." She considered Thor's information for a moment. "Is that pretty typical behavior for his people? Or is he just a psychopath – a deviant who doesn't or _can't_ feel empathy for other people?"

"Perhaps a bit of both," Thor conceded. "I've always been told the Jötun are a dangerous and cruel race of monsters, but even so, I do not think they would betray their own family without cause. But I do not know for sure. All I do know is... Loki was not the person I had believed him to be."

"Wow. That must have been hard for you to find out."

"It was," Thor replied, meeting Jane's concerned gaze. "Although, as you say, it became slightly less painful to think that my own brother had attempted to kill me, knowing he was not my brother by blood... But it was harder to realize that I had _no_ brother. He fell into the Void soon after I returned to Asgard, and we all grieved for him as one lost to us... we thought him to be dead. So when Heimdall saw him here on Earth, working mischief towards some unknown end, we were shocked and horrified. I was sent to retrieve him at once... but you must know how that turned out."

Jane nodded again. "I watched the Battle of New York on television. It was incredible. But I was glad to see you were helping the Avengers."

Thor allowed himself to indulge in a smile. He knew better now than to be smug about his conquests, but he felt justifiably proud to have helped defend Jane's realm.

"It was an honor to fight alongside them – some of the finest warriors I have met." Thinking of them reminded him why he was here to start with. "One of them, Clint Barton, is an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., but Loki had captured him and bent his will to obey him... along with Erik Selvig, as you know. Clint was disenchanted by force during one of our skirmishes, returned to his right mind in time to assist us in fighting, but... he had been under Loki's control for days before his rescue. And, apparently, uh..." Thor cleared his throat, struggling not to blush, "during that time, Loki... had uh... had made Clint... share his bed."

It took Jane a moment to comprehend what Thor had just said. "Oh! You mean... not because they couldn't get two rooms at the hotel or... anything like that."

"Exactly." Thor swallowed and tried hard not to think of Loki, naked, in Clint Barton's arms. He failed. "They were... lovers."

"Oh... God, that must be... awkward."

It was Thor's turn to nod. "It would not have been so bad, except... Loki's Jötun body... held a few secrets... none had suspected. He has both male and female organs... or at least, a few female organs." Knowing that there was no delicate way to reveal it, Thor blurted out, "Loki is now pregnant with Clint Barton's child."

Jane's jaw dropped at the news. "That's... Oh, my God... That's... That's..."

"Yes." Thor sighed. "It shocked us all... but it explained why Loki had become so ill recently. He is better now, and... we came to Midgard to tell Clint. Although he would not have expected it, either, I thought he had a right to know."

"Well, yeah... It's his kid, too," Jane agreed. "So how did he take the news?"

"Better than I thought he would. In fact, he seemed... rather pleased to know he had sired a child."

"Well, that's good. The baby is going to need at least _one_ stable parent."

Thor understood what Jane was implying, but it gave him pause. Loki had been quite subdued since finding out about the child, and even his stubborn insistence that Clint not be told was understandable, considering the circumstances. His relief when Clint had full-heartedly embraced the responsibility of having a child – as well as Loki himself – had been palpable to Thor as he sat beside him. The god of thunder had wondered what sort of parent Loki was going to be, and now he thought his brother might turn out to be a rather good one. If the care and concern Loki had expressed for the child's happiness were any indication, anyway.

"I think... between the two of them, the child will be well cared for," Thor said aloud. "My mother is thrilled to be having her first grandchild." Reminded of Frigga's parting comment, he blushed to the tips of his ears. "She, uh... She is hoping... that this one... would not be the last."

Jane turned to see Thor flushed crimson and embarrassed, his hands clenched together under the table, and realized what he was saying.

"Oh! Oh... yes. Grandchildren. Yes, of course."

"Yes?" Thor asked, a little hopefully.

"Ah... that is... yes, I'm sure she would enjoy having... grandchildren."

"Oh. Yes. Very much so."

"Mm-hmm." Jane suddenly stood up. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Ah... That's... That would be nice. Thank you."

While Jane searched her cupboards for the coffee, Thor took a deep breath. It was the moment of truth.

"Jane..."

"This isn't the best brand, but it's not too bad," she prattled as she rinsed out the pot.

"Jane."

"We'll get some of the good stuff tomorrow..."

"_Jane_."

Thor stood behind her and turned her to face him, holding her shoulders gently in both hands.

"I came to ask you... to come to Asgard with me."

She stared up at him, mouth agape, for a moment. "You... You mean... now? Like, _right now?_"

"Today... or tomorrow, perhaps... But yes. I must return Loki to his cell; this was only a temporary reprieve for him to tell Clint Barton in person. When we depart... I would like, very much, if you would come with us."

Jane thought she might have forgotten how to breathe. She glanced around the kitchen, taking in the dirty dishes and the piles of printed data she had been working on. "I... I can't," were the first words out of her mouth. "I... I'm working on this research, and I'm almost done with it, and... oh, my God, Thor... I... I'm so sorry!"

Feeling as though he had been punched in the stomach by The Hulk, Thor attempted to smile but it came out as a grimace. "I... understand. It was too much to ask of you."

"No, I mean... It's very sweet of you, and I'm flattered – _very_ flattered – but I've got so many things going on right now, and..." Jane looked up at him, desperately hoping to make him understand. "I just need some time! To... tie up loose ends, you know? And... think about it. Really, really think about it. Because it's not like I'm just... moving to Europe, or something. It's a pretty big decision. _Huge_."

Thor nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. But I would not have asked you this if I did not think... if I could not _promise_ you, a good life in my realm."

"Okay." Jane fidgeted for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Let's just call it a rain check, then."

"A... what?"


	27. Chapter 27

Jane finally got around to making coffee after explaining what a rain check was. Over their steaming mugs, Thor asked what she had been doing since he had last seen her, and she went into a detailed account of her research and move to London. Thor listened intently, asking about Midgardian cultural references he could not understand, so it was past midnight when she looked up at the clock.

"Oh, my God! I didn't realize it was getting so late. When do you have to go back?" she asked.

"Do not worry; there is no need for haste," Thor answered. "In fact... Loki would prefer that I not return for a while..."

"Oh, right – he gets to be out of his cell for now. That must be a nice break for him."

"Yes, and he is... well..." Thor could hardly bring himself to say it and almost decided not to, but Jane prompted him.

"And... what?"

"He... He is having a... conjugal visit... with Clint Barton."

Jane's eyes grew wider than Thor had ever seen them. "You mean... the man he kidnapped with Erik? The father of the baby?"

"Yes."

"And the guy... actually _wanted_ to... um... spend time with Loki?"

"Yes." Thor swallowed, remembering the moment when Clint had embraced his brother. "Loki had expected Clint to still hate him for what he had done, but... he never remarked on it. In fact he was... more than kind to Loki. He seems to... truly care for him."

"Oh, God. That's not good," Jane said, startling Thor.

"Why is it not good?"

"Stockholm Syndrome," she stated, as though the term would hold any meaning for Thor. Realizing it did not from the demigod's blank look, she elaborated, "It's a psychological phenomenon that happens under extreme duress like kidnapping – the victims start to twist their understanding of reality in order to survive, making excuses for the kidnapper and taking his side so wholeheartedly that they forget who they are or what they're really feeling. It's a way to trick the mind into believing the lies they have to tell the kidnapper so he won't hurt them. In some cases women have even claimed to have fallen in love with the perpetrator, and it can take years of therapy to get over it. Erik is still being treated by psychiatrists after getting his brain scrambled by Loki."

Thor listened to Jane's description with increasing alarm. "So you mean... Clint does not really love Loki but has _deluded_ himself into thinking he does? Just so he could survive the ordeal?"

"It sure sounds like it. I mean, who would willingly sleep with someone who had kidnapped you and forced you to do things against your will?"

"I must tell Loki at once!" Thor declared, rising from the chair. "He must not be allowed to exploit Clint Barton any further."

"Wait! Wait," Jane pleaded, also standing to grab Thor's arm. "Clint needs to figure it out for himself, and if he hasn't yet, he's going to resent you for insinuating that his feelings for Loki are fake. Especially if he's... if they're... you know... in the middle of their... _visit_."

Thor gritted his teeth as the image of Loki and Clint naked together flashed, unbidden, in his mind's eye; however, he had to admit the truth in Jane's warning.

"You are right... neither of them will be pleased to hear of this, especially... right now."

"Exactly. But if you could talk to Clint alone, maybe you can get him to see things more rationally."

"Perhaps." Thor considered Jane's suggestion, trying to understand how a man might be deluded about his own feelings on something of such importance. It was also a test of Thor's character to attempt to rescue a man from himself when that man was no doubt doing things with Loki – perhaps even at that very moment –which upset Thor immensely, even though he feared to admit to himself why.

"Actually," Jane added, "I would think S.H.I.E.L.D. has put the man under psychiatric care after all he went through. Any decent shrink would have talked to Clint about Stockholm Syndrome, so he should at least be aware of it. That should help you get through to him."

Thor nodded, but his posture and clenched fists showed his disquiet, so Jane continued, hoping to ease his mind.

"At least they're getting along well, which is good for the baby, right? Because the baby doesn't need his or her two dads arguing all the time or not talking at all; it's good that they're, uh... establishing a good relationship. Or, um, at least trying to turn it _into_ a good relationship."

"Yes," Thor conceded, "for the sake of the child... it is good that they are on amicable terms. Still, that does not mean it is right for Loki to take advantage of Clint's confused state."

"Yeah, but, um... call me sexist, but..." Jane groped for words. "_Loki_ is the one who's pregnant, right?"

"Yes."

"So... it's not like... you know... Clint is being... _coerced_... too much. I mean, he must at least be... enjoying it... a _little_ bit... you know?"

Thor turned to stare out the window at the blackness of the night. He vaguely caught his own reflection, with Jane's behind it, but all he could see was how Clint had smirked at Loki and led him out of the room, one arm possessively around Loki's waist. Deluded or not, in love or not, Thor was certain that Clint would enjoy coupling with Loki as much as he had ever enjoyed coupling with anybody. Loki was a skillful lover, his beautiful body matched by his sultry voice and skillful tongue. Thor had enjoyed every stolen moment with his brother despite the great guilt weighing on his conscience for desiring him in such a manner; he was sure Clint was enjoying it as well – and not just "a little bit" as Jane had said.

"Um... Thor? Earth to Thor?"

"What?" he responded, caught by surprise.

"I can tell it's bothering you," Jane began, "and I'm sorry I brought it up. Maybe Clint has already worked through his PTSD – sorry, that's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the aftereffects of trauma – and maybe he really _is_ in love with Loki. Who can say for sure? Maybe they _did_ share something more than... mindless, weird, baby-making sex. Maybe they did have some sort of connection or bond."

"I suppose it is... possible," Thor grudgingly admitted. He was not sure if the concept helped or not; he was not prepared to delve into it right now.

"But... so..." Jane hesitated, then took a deep breath. "If you're in no hurry to go back... would you like to stay here tonight?"

"Thank you, yes. The couch will be sufficient," Thor said with a glance at the living room.

Jane made an awkward laugh. "Thor, you just asked me to go to _Asgard_ with you, and... call me crazy, but I'm seriously considering it." She looked up into his eyes before telling him, "I wasn't offering you the _couch_."

Thor opened his mouth to reply, then realized there was nothing to say. He had been with enough women to know when to stop talking, so he bent down to answer her lips with a kiss.

* * *

Steve had grown quite familiar with the new D-Ration bars since waking in the current time. Often there were days when he did not feel like eating anything, stuck in an ennui that was as cold and gripping as the polar ice, so he had come to rely on the Soldier Fuel bars to keep his body sustained. He picked up an assortment of them, selecting the ones he thought tasted best, and hung the bag on the doorknob of Loki and Clint's room. Forgetting that the door and walls were made of soundproof material, he knocked and walked away; which was just as well since the couple inside were rather preoccupied.

He returned to his room and tried to sleep, even though he knew it would be elusive tonight. He tried reading a book in an effort to keep the images of Clint and Loki – naked and sweating and obviously enjoying themselves – from replaying in his mind, but with little success. Of course Steve knew the _mechanics_ of sex well enough, being as red-blooded as any other male of the species, but he had never experienced it with a partner, so seeing the actual _act_ itself had been a shock. That it had involved two males only compounded the shock.

The biggest shock, however, was how his body had responded. At first he had stared at the writhing forms on the screen with horrified fascination; but later, when the two men's movements grew more frenzied, Steve had felt his own manhood swelling with unmistakable interest. He tried to rationalize it to himself by insisting he was only interested in Clint's side of the pleasure – what did it feel like to thrust into another body like that? But then he wondered how it felt to be on Loki's side, on the receiving end of those powerful thrusts. Was it truly as pleasurable as Loki's reactions seemed to indicate? And how did that pleasure compare to Clint's?

He tried to avoid rehashing those thoughts again, but they kept dogging him, nipping at the corners of his attention along with the images of the two men locked in each other's embrace. Steve knew that if he gave in to those thoughts, he would be forced to masturbate to those images. Tossing his book on his bedside table, Steve stood up and grabbed his training gear. He would go to the gym and work off some of his restless energy – that had always worked before, even if the results were not quite as satisfactory.


	28. Chapter 28

All of the lights in the gym were turned off when Steve entered, so he turned on just the lights he needed, helped himself to a few sandbags, and hooked up the first one. He was well into his routine of quick jabs and powerful hits when a shadow in the far corner of the room caught his eye. Although it hadn't moved, he suddenly realized that the shadow was in the shape of a man sitting cross-legged on a mat. He paused and squinted, confirming that the shadow not only _looked_ like a man but _was_ a man.

"Um... Hello?"

When the man turned toward Steve, he recognized Bruce.

"Hello," Bruce responded, sounding neither upset nor inviting.

"Dr. Banner! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there..."

"That's all right. That was... sort of the point."

Steve had taken a few steps closer to him but stopped short. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. Sorry for all the noise I was making."

"Oh, I don't mind. It's actually... rather soothing. Just pretend I'm not here."

"Uh... Okay..." Steve glanced around the room as though looking for other men to be hiding in the darkness. "Um... May I ask what you're doing?"

"Meditating. It helps to decompress at the end of the day... relieve some pressure, try to regain my balance. Really, you're not bothering me at all, so don't worry."

"Okay... Thanks."

Steve returned to punching the sandbag, although his thoughts were on Bruce and the effort the man must constantly exert to maintain his self-control. Steve wondered how meditation worked; it sounded mystical and foreign to him, but if it helped Bruce "regain his balance," it must be effective. He was glad the mild-mannered scientist had found some tools to help keep "the other guy" in check. Not only did Steve not want to see people injured by The Hulk, he also did not want to see Bruce struggling with the guilt that ensued.

After a few more passes of quick, feather-light jabs, Steve worked up a sheen of sweat on his skin. When some of it flew off his bare arms in a flurry of movement, he wondered what his pheromones were saying now. Frustrated? Unsettled? Lonely? But he realized that if he were feeling all of those things, having been ripped out of his time and brought into the future, Bruce must feel them far more, being cut off from society by the very nature of what he had become. Frigga's visual representation of their pheromones came back to his mind – Bruce's cloud had been so dense as to almost obscure him. It wasn't just about sex, Steve thought, but about all aspects of human interaction; Bruce would be regarded with fear and suspicion everywhere he went unless he could keep his identity secret. Which also meant that he would probably never find a woman to share his life with. After all, who would be brave enough to risk encountering the Mr. Hyde to Bruce's Dr. Jekyll? And Bruce would never deceive someone he was that close to about his alter ego.

Steve hit the sandbag hard, then grabbed it as it swung back to him with force. A crazy thought had occurred to him and he wasn't sure how it would be received. In fact, Tony Stark had first suggested it, which in itself nearly made him reject the idea, but he was also aware of his own limits of endurance and, by extrapolation, thought he understood where Bruce might be on the spectrum. He rested his forehead on the sandbag for a moment, debating with himself as to the wisdom of voicing the concept, but in the end his decision was based on a simple question: _"What have I got to lose?"_

He walked slowly over to the dark corner, giving Bruce the chance to stop his approach if he wanted to. The scientist only opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"May I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

Steve sat down on the bare floor in front of Bruce, cross-legged as well. "I have a... proposal."

"Oh?"

"I was just thinking... we're both rather... at odds, with society in general... isolated in a sense." Steve chose his words carefully, not wanting to sound condescending. "I know if it's not easy for me, it can't be any easier for you. So I was wondering if you'd be interested in a... an experiment."

"W-What kind of experiment?" Bruce asked, one eyebrow rising in a guarded look.

"When Queen Frigga showed us our pheromones, she also mentioned some... other things, but they were true – at least for me. Then Stark had the idea that... we might be able to help each other... since we're both in the same boat."

Bruce's mouth fell open. "Are you saying... what I _think_ you're saying?"

Steve felt his face turn red and mentally kicked himself for even opening his mouth, but there was no turning back now.

"I believe you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about... especially after... what we saw today..." Steve cleared his throat before adding, "An experiment, of sorts, for... our mutual benefit."

"Wow..." Bruce murmured, looking shocked even in the dim light. "You're serious?"

"I wouldn't joke about something like this, Doctor. But if you're not interested, I understand," Steve said, moving to leave the other man alone to his peace and quiet. "I realize it's not what you're looking for—"

"No, wait!" Bruce called, making Steve stop in the middle of standing up. "That's... That's very generous of you, Captain. Because I know damn well we aren't in the same boat – you're not at all the social pariah I am." When Steve sat back down and attempted to contradict him, Bruce prevented it with a wave of his hand. "No, no, it's true; there's no use denying it. You could go out there and... sweep any woman off her feet. Any girl would be lucky to have a man like you... whereas I can barely trust myself to be around other people, let alone get close to anyone."

Knowing it was useless to candy-coat Bruce's situation, Steve only said, "It must be incredibly lonely for you. I can't even imagine how hard it's been."

"Thank you," Bruce replied with a slow nod, acknowledging his years of pain and heartache in that simple gesture. "It's nice of you to even try. But I'm still not sure... you really meant what you said. Are you really sure... this is something you want to do? Because you don't have to do this just because you feel sorry for me. I would rather not if it's only a... pity fuck."

Steve started, stunned by the modern term but understanding its ramifications immediately. "That's not what I intended at all, Doctor. You know I have nothing but respect for you – for your scientific research as well as your fortitude in the face of so much adversity. A lesser man would have been crushed by the weight of what you have to bear. And as far as meaning what I said, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. I've been... well, after seeing Clint and Loki... I'm a little curious about... how it all _works_. So I thought, you being a scientist, if we tried it as a sort of experiment – no emotional strings attached, you know; if it works, great, but if it doesn't, no hard feelings – we could maybe blow off some steam without the risk of anybody getting hurt."

Steve felt like he was babbling and turning redder the longer he spoke, but Bruce, observing him, seemed to grow calmer and more satisfied.

"All right, then," he said, sounding like a professor now, "how do you propose we set up the experiment? What are the parameters, and what are we seeking to learn?"

"Well, ah," Steve paused, taken aback for a moment. "What I'd like to learn is... is it really as... _enjoyable_... as Loki and Clint made it look?"

"Okay, we have an example and we want to prove or disprove its accuracy and repeatability. What else?"

"I... I really don't know much about it... except what I saw today," Steve admitted. "I guess I'm just curious... about the whole process."

"Well then, gaining experiential knowledge is the best way to learn about it," Bruce told him encouragingly. "What about the parameters? Are you comfortable with the whole world finding out about what we're doing, or only your closest friends, or do you want to keep it a secret from everybody?"

"I think, until we figure out how... _successful_ our experiment will be, we should keep it to ourselves."

"Excellent! Now we have our framework. And as far as method... are you looking to prove just what we saw Clint and Loki doing today – namely, anal sexual intercourse – or other methods of homosexual intimacy?"

"There... are _other_ ways?" Steve asked, feeling terribly ignorant.

"Of course. Sex isn't always about penile penetration," Bruce informed him. "Kissing, for example, is an important part of intimacy in _any_ relationship. Speaking of which, are you comfortable with kissing?"

"I... I'm not sure..."

"Okay, that will be one of the items to be tested," Bruce said, ticking it off on his finger as though forming a mental checklist. "I'm assuming you would like to test both aspects of anal penetration?"

"Yes," Steve answered immediately, glad to have a definite answer for at least one thing.

"Okay then, we'll try everything at least once, including positions. This might take some time..."

Steve caught on that Bruce's raised eyebrow indicated a question. "If there's more than one way... I suppose it will. I'm stationed here for at least the next few months."

"Good – then I'll request to be assigned to one of the research projects here. Tony is already working with them on several, so it shouldn't seem odd for me to ask to assist him. So... that just leaves the equipment." Bruce studied Steve with a calculating look. "You seem to be the picture of health, and I'm assuming you've been put through more than the usual gamut of physical evaluations?"

"Poked and prodded and x-rayed like a guinea pig," Steve agreed.

"Did they find any STDs in your system? Sexually Transmitted Diseases?"

"Uh... no." Steve looked down at his hands and feet, flushed so hot he thought his ears must be steaming. "They couldn't have, since... I... I know this sounds ridiculous, but I... I... haven't... you know... _been_ with anybody."

Bruce stared at him for what seemed like an hour before saying, "You mean... you've never...? Not even with women?"

Steve only shook his head. He had already noticed that the cultural attitude toward sex had changed vastly over the seven decades he had missed, and he felt even more ignorant than before.

"Wow... okay. So this will be your first." Bruce flashed him a lopsided grin. "I guess I'd better make it good. No pressure, right?" His chuckle made Steve feel more at ease. "Well, you don't have to take my word for it, but I'm clean too, according to the physical S.H.I.E.L.D. gave me right after New York. In fact I believe both of our immune systems have been bolstered to withstand most viruses and infections – which means we won't have to bother with condoms. So all we need is some lubricant, available at the store here. Are you ready to do this? Tonight?"

"Yes," Steve responded without hesitation.

"All right. So I guess the last question is: your place or mine?"

"Um... it doesn't matter to me..."

Bruce considered it. "I think, since this is your first time, it should be in your room – where you would feel more relaxed and comfortable." He uncrossed his legs and stood up, mirrored by Steve. "Why don't you go on ahead while I stop by the store."

"Uh... Here's some cash—" Steve began, but he was cut off by Bruce.

"No, no – lube isn't that expensive, and even if it was, this is my treat." Bruce smiled and patted Steve on the back, making his wife-beater stick to his sweaty skin. "Just go on home and get freshened up."

"I can do that," Steve replied with a shy smile of his own.


	29. Chapter 29

Since all of the doors in the facility automatically locked, Steve wedged his book in the door to the hallway so Bruce could get in if he arrived while Steve was still in the shower. He did a quick check of his room – it was as clean and spartan as any Army barracks, or rather cleaner. He did not plan on staying long at any one place because S.H.I.E.L.D. could move him at a moment's notice, and he hardly had any material possessions to speak of. He straightened up the bedding so it wouldn't look like he had tossed and turned before giving up on sleep, then stepped into the bathroom for his much-needed shower, spending extra time washing his nether regions. There was a tight knot in the pit of his stomach, and his cock was already beginning to harden.

After stepping out and drying off, Steve left the towel wrapped around his waist while he brushed his teeth, remembering what Bruce had said about kissing. When he rinsed and looked up, Bruce's reflection was in the mirror, leaning against the doorjamb to the bathroom and smiling.

"I let myself in," Bruce said, holding up the book. "And I got all the supplies we need." This time he held up a large bottle of lubricant. "Are you ready to do this?"

"I... think so, yes," Steve replied. His whole body was abuzz with excitement, making him tremble.

"Well, come on, then, Captain," Bruce invited, backing away to let Steve through to the bedroom. "Why don't we start with something simple... Just lie back on the bed – you can keep your towel on for now – and make yourself comfortable."

Steve did as instructed, feeling more awkward than he had in a long while, and watched with unfeigned interest as Bruce took off his shirt and undershirt. The man had a lush covering of hair on his chest and abdomen which Steve could not help but envy since he had always been as smooth as a peeled egg. Bruce set his shirts aside on a chair, then slipped out of his shoes before crawling onto the bed to join Steve. They turned to face each other, their gazes shy but curious.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked.

"Nervous," Steve answered honestly. "But a good kind of nervous, I think."

"Me too," Bruce confessed, making Steve feel infinitely better. "Let's just start with touching, shall we?"

The scientist's gentle hands reached out to Steve's wrists, then traveled up his arms, lingering on his biceps before continuing to his shoulders, transferring warmth and a sense of closeness all along the way. Hesitantly, Steve placed his own palms on Bruce's chest, exploring the hard expanse covered in soft fur. The ridges of his abdomen were just as toned as Steve's own, he found, and when he rubbed up the sides of Bruce's ribcage, he heard the other man sigh and relax.

Bruce trailed his hands all over Steve's body as well, admiring the perfection he had striven so long to recreate. Steve was no longer an abstract ideal, or even a model soldier, but a living, breathing, _feeling_ human being who had reached out to a fellow man in his loneliness. With a surge of gratitude, Bruce shifted to get closer to this amazing man and slid a hand around to his back, holding him in a loose embrace. He noticed Steve's cheeks had turned pink as their eyes met again; Bruce felt a little flushed as well.

"Would you like to try some kissing," Bruce asked, surprised to find himself short of breath. "I know I sure would."

"Yes," Steve answered, leaning in closer as his heart thudded in his chest. When their lips met, he puckered like he thought he was supposed to, wondering at the slightly scratchy sensation of Bruce's stubble, and backed away almost immediately. Bruce chuckled, though his voice was not unkind.

"I'm not your grandmother, you know," he teased. "Loosen up a little, and open your mouth. Let me show you how the French do kissing."

"Uh... okay," Steve said, not sure what to expect. When Bruce's tongue licked his lips, he was startled; when it entered his mouth and engaged his own tongue, Steve felt his cock grow hard in response. It was an altogether novel experience but one he liked at once. He tried to mimic what Bruce was doing, feeling and tasting the other man, and was actually disappointed when his tongue retreated.

"No, don't stop – now it's your turn," Bruce whispered. Realizing what he meant, Steve reconnected their mouths and slipped his tongue into Bruce's. He was wondering if Bruce was getting hard, too, when he felt Bruce's hand making its way under the towel and sliding up his thigh. He swallowed out of reflex when that warmth enveloped his cock, gasping for air as their lips parted.

Bruce reached down to massage Steve's balls, his fingertips gently trying to learn what made the other man feel good. At this point, anything he did would have been good by Steve; having another person stimulate his privates in such a caring manner was mind-blowing for him. When Bruce brought his hand back up Steve's shaft and his thumb touched the underside of the exposed head, though, he knew he had found a good spot – Steve tensed and moaned, the sexy sound making Bruce's own cock fill to maximum capacity. They both needed release, and desperately; Bruce now had an idea how to make it happen.

"Lie back and spread your legs," he told Steve. "Bend your knees if that's more comfortable."

While Steve complied, Bruce removed the rest of his clothes and positioned himself between those long thighs, opening up the towel and kneeling at the soldier's exposed crotch with his own legs underneath Steve's double arches. Leaning forward, he brought their cocks into contact; aligning them without using his hands, Bruce rested his weight on his forearms, then made a little thrust with his hips to rub his cock against Steve's, eliciting a cry from him.

"Oh! Wow..." Steve panted.

"Is that a good 'Wow' or a... not-so-sure 'Wow'?"

"Good 'Wow.' Definitely."

"Good. Can you give me a hand here?" Bruce asked, indicating their two cocks with a nod. Steve hurried to follow his directions. "Just wrap them around them... not too tight... yeah, that's good." With a grin, Bruce began thrusting, stroking his cock along the underside of Steve's in a slow, tantalizing pace. Steve groaned as the friction caused him to start leaking precome, then realized that Bruce was leaking, too – his cock was dripping beads of it as it rubbed up and down his own, making them glide more smoothly.

"Um... should I," Steve began, blushing red-hot as he realized what he was about to ask.

"What? You can do whatever you want," Bruce answered. "Just do what feels good. I'll let you know if it doesn't."

Emboldened, Steve gathered up the drops of his own precome with a thumb and transferred it to the sliding surfaces of their cocks.

"Ahh..." Bruce breathed in approval. "Yes, _very_ good. You're a quick study."

A warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of sex permeated Steve's body, and he let out a long sigh of relief as he gave himself up to the wonderful sensation of having his cock rubbed by Bruce's, of having the other man hovering over him, moving in the tender rhythm of love. When Bruce bent down to kiss him, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to do. Steve was glad to learn that they _could_ kiss in this position, which made their physical need seem like so much more – like they needed each other in deeper, more metaphysical ways.

Still, they were both men who had not had their sexual needs met in a long time – in Steve's case, perhaps ever – so it did not take long for them to start grinding their cocks together in shorter, more urgent thrusts. While their tongues tangled between their mouths, Steve struggled to keep their cocks in contact without hampering their movements. He sensed Bruce's desperation when the other man sucked hard at his tongue before drawing back, his hips pounding mercilessly against his thighs.

"I... I can't... hold back," Bruce panted. "I'm... coming... coming...!"

"Oh!" Steve gasped as he felt Bruce's come splattering his skin, some of it reaching his chest and even his chin. He could sense how the orgasm tore through the other man – a deep, satisfying eruption of pent-up need and frustration. But as excited and as stimulated as he was, Steve was not ready to follow suit. He squirmed, wanting release desperately but unable to reach it, while Bruce thrust a few more times with his softening cock.

"Sorry," Bruce apologized when he'd caught his breath. "But that was... _amazing_."

Steve released his hold on both of their man-handles, choosing instead to grip the bedcovers. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with having Bruce watch him jack off. However, he need not have worried – Bruce shuffled down the bed until he was crouched between Steve's legs and placed Steve's cockhead in his mouth without hesitation. While Steve stared in open-mouthed wonder, Bruce's tongue began doing things to his cock that Steve had not imagined were possible even in his wildest wet dreams. The way the muscle lapped up his shaft, moistening it as well as stimulating it; the way it tried to make its way into the narrow slit, unsuccessfully but still to great effect; the way it flicked over the most sensitive spot on the underside of the head – all made him admire the other man so much more and brought his release that much closer to fruition.

When Bruce took his cock into his mouth again and began sucking and swallowing, Steve felt rumbling tremors in the core of his body; when Bruce moved his head up and down on his cock, letting the head push against the ridges on the roof of his mouth, Steve's body erupted at last, shaking and trembling in the aftermath of the earth-shattering quake. His come spurted out like V-2 rockets being fired in quick succession, and Bruce gathered it all in his talented mouth, swallowing it bit by bit until it had all been consumed. He sucked a few final times to make sure he had drained Steve completely, then licked the head in lieu of a parting kiss before crawling up to lie alongside his new lover.

"Oh... wow..." was all Steve could manage.

"Mm-hmm," Bruce concurred.


	30. Chapter 30

Thor stroked Jane's hair in indolent satisfaction. Their lovemaking had been slow and hesitant at first since he had not been sure how frail a mortal woman might be, but he soon learned that Jane was as lusty and as hardy as any Asgardian wench he had known. He was glad that she no longer shared her quarters with Darcy and Erik – there would have been no disguising the noises they had made in their passion.

She was sleeping now, nestled against his shoulder where he held her, but sleep was far from Thor. Not because he was displeased with how their first coupling had gone, but rather because it had been more fulfilling and gratifying than he had expected. It felt like coming home after a long and wearisome battle – there was a rightness about it, a sense of connection and kinship... something he had not felt with any other woman.

But it was not the first time he had sensed it, and that was what troubled Thor and robbed him of his rest now. He had experienced such closeness and intimacy with only one other person: his supposed brother, Loki.

Thor reached back into his memory to the first time he had touched Loki with desire rather than in jest, sport, or anger. It was not hard to remember – the events of that momentous day were clear in his mind even though he had attempted to bury them, or at least ignore them, after being chastised by his father.

_Loki was sitting at his desk, writing out the answers to the questions their instructor had given him. Thor was sprawled on the recessed seating around the brazier, tossing one of the pillows in the air and catching it. He also had questions to answer, but he had given up after only doing a few. He wanted to go to the training grounds but Frigga had forbidden it for the past several days since he had not completed his questions for weeks. She hoped that confining him to the palace would inspire him to apply himself to his studies; thus far, it had not proven successful. _

"_I'm bored," Thor said for the eleventh time. _

"_Why don't you just finish your work, and then you will be free to go play with your friends," Loki pointed out without stopping his writing. _

"_If you would help me with my work, I would be done already," Thor huffed. _

"_I helped you yesterday." _

"_Yes, but half of the answers were wrong!" _

_Loki shrugged. "I'm younger than you. Why should you expect me to know all the answers to your questions?" _

"_Because you've read twice as many books as I have!" _

_Thor glared at his brother, but Loki's expression remained calm and unperturbed. _

"_Perhaps if you stopped moping about and actually _read_ your assigned books, you wouldn't need to ask me to help you." _

_It was the same old argument they had had many times before. Loki would grudgingly agree to help Thor on occasion if Thor promised him something in exchange that Loki considered worthwhile, but if Thor grew too demanding or insufferable while he was doing the work for him, Loki would deliberately write the wrong answers to embarrass Thor in front of the instructor. Still, Thor hated his studies with such a passion that he continued to resort to bribing his brother. _

"_Mother has forbidden me from setting foot outside of the palace," Thor mused aloud, "but she never said I couldn't explore _inside_ the palace..." _

_Loki's pen halted for the first time. "I do believe my cleverness is beginning to wear off on you," he remarked. _

"_Let's go look through the old section," Thor said, eagerly jumping to his feet. "There are still many rooms stocked with unused things from Grandfather's day – perhaps we can find some old armor and weapons!" _

_Loki resisted as long as it took him to finish his assignment, but despite his many protests and dire warnings about the consequences, he seemed just as eager to look through the dusty rooms in search of boyish treasures. For Thor, it was necessary to persuade his brother to join him, for only Loki knew how to cast spells that would make them, if not entirely invisible to Heimdall, at least shadowed enough that the all-seeing watchman would not immediately alert their parents. _

_And so they made their way down to the unused section of the palace, each carrying a torch. They found a room full of cabinets with antique royal dishes, which fascinated Loki more than Thor. They also came across a room with linen drapes and flags, worn and faded but still showing the splendor of the past kings in their fine embroidery. When they rounded a corner of the corridor, however, they both froze, having heard sounds coming from a room ahead. _

"_I thought nobody came down here anymore," Loki whispered accusingly. _

"_As did I!" Thor whispered back. _

_Holding their breaths, they tiptoed to the source of the noises, a door Loki found was locked and sealed by magic. _

"_It sounds like someone is in pain," Thor said after they had listened to the muffled sounds for a minute. "Perhaps he is being tortured. We must find help!" _

"_Wait." Loki moved to the wall next to the door and spread his hands over it. The solid stone began to slowly grow translucent, then transparent. "We can see in without them seeing out," he told his brother. _

_Even before his spell had finished, the boys realized that what they had stumbled upon was a tryst, not a scene of violence. But Thor was shocked to see that both of the lovers were men – soldiers he recognized as Einherjar. One man was naked from the waist down, half-lying and half-sitting on the edge of an old table; the other was fully clothed except for his cock, which he was thrusting into his lover as he stood between his outspread legs. Both men were grunting and crying out in pleasure with almost every thrust. _

"_How... What..." Thor began but could not finish. His own cock had grown painfully hard at the sight. _

"_What?" Loki asked. "You've never seen people having sex before?" _

_Startled by his brother's cool demeanor, Thor turned to look at him. "You mean you have?" _

"_A few times. By accident, of course," Loki answered, indicating his stone-changing spell. Thor was not sure how "by accident" he could believe it to be, but there were more pressing matters on his mind. _

"_But... they are both _men_," he pointed out. _

_Loki shot him a look that spelled contempt at his ignorance. "Of course. If you can penetrate a woman in her rectum, why couldn't you do the same with a man?" _

"_You can?" Thor asked, his jaw dropping. _

"_Well, obviously," Loki retorted, gesturing to the couple before their eyes. "You have to use oil, but it must feel just as good as the child-making way, maybe even better, since some men prefer men over women." _

"_How do you know that?" Thor demanded, forgetting to keep his voice down. _

"_Hush!" Loki hissed at him while watching the two men. When they showed no signs of having heard Thor's outburst, he whispered, "It's common knowledge! Some men never marry and live with another man as their lover. There are several Lancers who have rooms apart from the central barracks so their lovers can live with them – a few of the Charioteers too." Seeing Thor's incredulous expression, Loki explained, "I once saw two men holding hands, strolling on the rear ramparts, and followed them to that section. Father must have made provision for them, since they are given quarters large enough for families, just like the Royal Guards who marry palace servants. Some of them even have children, although I would guess they are adopted." _

_Thor stared at his brother, mouth agape, for a long time. Loki returned to watching the lovers before he did, but soon even Thor could not ignore the guttural sounds emanating from the room. His cock, which had become flaccid during his brother's exposition, now raged rampant again at the sight of the two men enjoying their carnal pleasure. His hand slipped down to touch it through his trousers, stroking it in time to the lovers' movements until his leaking fluid stained the fabric. When the man thrusting reached his climax, announcing it in harsh cries and uncontrollable strokes, Thor gasped and felt his own seed release as well. Blushing furiously, he glanced at Loki to see if his brother had noticed – only to find that Loki had done the same and was now using a spell to erase the wetness on his trousers. _

"_Do mine too," Thor demanded. Loki only smirked as he complied, then continued watching the two men inside. The one who had been penetrated had not yet reached his release, so his lover knelt on the floor before him to suckle his cock. A few moments later, he began crying out in ecstasy. Thor observed this as well, dumbfounded. _

"_We should leave before they do," Loki warned when the second man had finished, then waved his hand over the wall to undo his spell. The two boys scurried down the corridors, nearly taking the wrong turn once but making it back to Loki's room without mishap. By the time they had closed the door, however, Thor's cock had already begun to grow hard again; he could not get the images of the mating men out of his mind. _

"_So... that happens often?" he asked his surprisingly more knowledgeable younger brother. _

"_Of course. Sex happens all the time. Those soldiers were off-duty, at least – sometimes I've found them having sex even while on-duty." _

_Thor frowned. "They should not be having pleasure when they ought to be serving the King." _

"_True," Loki agreed, "but I shan't be reporting them to Father anytime soon – it would require answering some rather uncomfortable questions of our own, don't you think? Besides, you know as well as I do how strong the urge to mate can be; and from what I've seen, at least, the pleasure seems to merit the risk of discovery." _

"_It did seem pleasurable," Thor admitted. "Very... pleasurable..." He turned a considering eye on his brother. "Loki," he began, "would you like to try that for yourself?" _

"_What, with you?" Loki retorted in a mocking tone. He turned to face Thor and paled when he realized his older brother was serious. "You... mean that?" _

_Thor deliberately shifted the bulge in the front of his trousers. "I need release. I suspect you do as well." _

_Loki swallowed hard, for his bulge had grown bigger even as Thor spoke. "I do." He glanced around the room nervously. "Let me cast a better concealing spell..." _


	31. Chapter 31

Thor remembered how they had argued about who would go first, neither of them knowing that the receiving partner could experience pleasure also; Loki had only agreed to let Thor take the first turn after Thor had sworn to give him his dagger – a relic from their great-grandfather's days – if he did not immediately let Loki have his turn. Thus mollified, Loki had stripped out of his clothes, sat on the edge of his bed, conjured some cooking oil from the kitchens, and spread his legs. Thor was upon his brother at once, penetrating him with no more preparation than the oil Loki had placed himself within his passage, causing the smaller boy to cry out in pain.

"_Stop! Pull out! You're hurting me, you big brute!" Loki spit out savagely, tears welling in his eyes. _

"_I... cannot... You feel so... good!" Thor gasped, already thrusting. "So tight... so... wonderful!" _

_With what sounded like a half-sob-half-snarl, Loki slid his fingers down below his own cock and balls to conjure more oil to his abused hole. The constant motion of Thor's cock spread it quickly enough, and after a few gasps and another spell – this one to loosen his muscles – Loki was able to relax and lie back while his brother fucked him like a bull bilgesnipe in heat. It was just as well that Thor's manhood was not a great endowment, or he might have injured his brother on his first move. _

_Even with Loki's passage opened to easily accept his intrusion, however, Thor trembled from the pleasurable sensations traveling along his cock. His movements grew frenzied before long, and as Loki looked up at him with mingled disdain and curiosity, Thor pressed down further on Loki's exposed ass, hooking his brother's slender legs over his arms to better pound into him. Standing as he was on the floor, he had good leverage and footing to do so, and as the sensation of sliding inside Loki's tight passage stimulated his cock more and more, Thor felt the dam of seed pooling at the base of his manhood growing as well. _

"_Loki! Oh, Norns... so good... so... unghhh...!" _

_Thor growled and groaned as his seed shot forth like liquid lightning, striking many times until its energy was spent. The hot fluid was now coating Loki's passage, making squelching noises with every thrust, for even though Thor could sense his come had been fully released, he could not stop thrusting into that wonderful, all-encompassing warmth. _

"_Aren't you done yet?" Loki complained, flailing his legs to get Thor's attention. _

"_I... I am... but I... do not want to stop," Thor panted, letting Loki's legs slip off from his arms. He leaned forward, bracing himself on the bed with his hands on either side of his brother. "It feels so good... Your body... feels so good, Loki." _

"_I'm sure it does," was the biting reply. "But you promised me my turn. Or do you wish to forfeit the dagger?" _

"_You can have the dagger," Thor promised, "just let me do this... a while longer." _

_Loki looked at him in surprise, then pursed his lips in resignation as well as satisfaction, for he had coveted the dagger ever since it had been given to Thor. After a few more thrusts, Thor lowered himself onto Loki's chest, wrapping his arms around his brother's back, and kissed those prim lips. The pleasure of coming inside Loki's body had been incredible; the joy of holding his slim, naked body and continuing to be joined with it was unparalleled. Rather than subsiding, Thor's cock was beginning to grow hard again. _

"_Another!" Thor declared. "I can do this... once more, Loki!" He laughed when Loki's eyes grew wide. "I could do this... all day..." _

"_You can't – we must go to dinner or Father will suspect something," Loki protested, somewhat panicked. _

"_We have time yet before then," Thor said, still sliding his cock inside his brother. He rose up onto his elbows to gaze down into Loki's face. "This is... amazing, Brother! I wish I had known... such pleasure was possible... much sooner than this." _

"_And now that you know, I suppose you're going to be insufferable," Loki bitterly retorted. _

"_You will have your turn later," Thor assured him. "For now, though, I must find pleasure... in your lovely body... once more. Loki, I will have your ass... overflowing with my seed! My own hands shall... never satisfy me again. Your tight hole... is the only place... my cock will release its seed... my brother!" _

"_You do realize this is incest," Loki said in some desperation as Thor's thrusts grew faster. _

"_What? Why?" _

"_We're _brothers_. Having _sex_. That makes it _incest_." _

"_Oh... I thought that was... only for women... since the child would be... born with deformities." _

"_No, you idiot! This is... shameful... disgusting... a perversion of nature." _

_Thor shook his head. "No, this is wonderful... delightful... the best thing I have... ever felt!" _

_Wanting to plunge even deeper into Loki, Thor forced his way further up onto the bed, pushing Loki's body with only his cock, until his knees came to rest on the rumpled bedcovers. He crouched over Loki until he could kiss him again and slid his arms under Loki's shoulders, placing both hands on them to hold his brother's body still while he thrust his cock as hard as he could. The change in angle did enable him to dig deeper; it also wrought a sudden change in Loki's demeanor. _

"AH!_" he cried when Thor's cock pushed up and in. "What... What was... _AH!_" _

"_What is it?" Thor asked, startled enough to slow his movements. _

"_Don't stop – do it again," Loki demanded. "Push hard!" _

_When Thor complied, Loki arched his back until he nearly came off the bed. _

"_Oh! Oh, that was... that was... incredible," he panted. _

"_It was good?" Thor asked, wanting to be sure. _

"_Yes! Push deep there... _YES!_ Oh, yes – right there! _YES!_" _

_So encouraged, Thor thrust in the way that seemed to drive Loki over the Rainbow Bridge of desire. He continued to hold Loki and kiss his lips whenever he could spare a breath, while Loki, for his part, wrapped his long legs around Thor's backside and pulled him in with every thrust, inviting him to delve ever deeper into his body. The sensual cries that spilled out of Loki's mouth made Thor's blood pump hotter. He could feel his brother's slender fingers groping between their bodies, stroking madly at Loki's long manhood, so it was no surprise when Loki came, spattering his hot seed on both of their naked chests. What surprised Thor was how good it felt to have Loki climax while his cock was still within him. He thrust with abandon then, seeking only his own pleasure, and soon found it. Collapsing upon his brother, Thor felt as though all pleasures he had previously experienced in his life were nothing compared to what he had just had with Loki. _

_After a few minutes of simply existing – of breathing and enjoying the bliss of sexual satisfaction – Loki pushed at Thor in a vain effort to move him. _

"_You're heavy," he complained, though there was not the usual sting in his words. _

"_Mm... and you are too hasty," Thor replied, running a hand through Loki's hair. "This is a most glorious way to pass the time indeed!" _

"_We must get clean before dinner," Loki protested, trying to pull out from under Thor. _

"_Use your tricks," Thor said, still unwilling to release his brother. "It will save us time... time we can lie here together, Brother." _

_He heard Loki mutter a few words and felt the stickiness covering his skin disappear. Grinning, Thor pulled Loki even closer to himself and claimed his lips once more. _

"_Thor! We must go... _now!_" Loki managed to say between the greedy kisses. "Mother will worry." _

_Thor sighed. "All right. But only if you give me a _proper_ kiss, Loki. For even I know that you cannot have sex without kissing." _

"_What? There is no rule for that," Loki contradicted. "You can very well have sex and _never_ kiss." _

"_There isn't? I shall have to rectify that when I am King," Thor declared. "I think it is absolutely necessary for lovers to kiss, so give me a kiss, Loki – or you will make us both late for dinner." _

"_We are not lovers, Thor. We are brothers. Who just happened to do something very... illicit." _

_Thor gazed into Loki's troubled green eyes, and although he felt some misgivings – as though he had been infected by his brother's concerns – aloud he only said, "Well... I love you, Brother, and if you would love me too... we will be lovers. And the next time, I promise you, you may do as you please with me." _

_Loki seemed stunned by Thor's statement, returning his gaze with an unwontedly open expression. He parted his lips as though to say something, then pressed them to Thor's mouth instead. Thor kissed him the best he knew how, running his hands along the smooth, pale skin of Loki's back. When Loki broke the kiss, he was subdued, almost unsure of himself, and Thor wanted nothing more than to hold him close. _

"_We should get dressed for dinner," Thor finally admitted, sitting up and pulling his brother along after him. "We wouldn't want to be late, and I am famished!" _

"_I'm not surprised... after all that exercise," Loki remarked while retrieving his clothes. "You will have no excuse to not finish your questions tonight." _

_Thor groaned at the thought of his neglected studies, but he was soon distracted by the sight of Loki pulling his undergarment up his long legs and over his rounded buttocks. Despite his promise to let Loki have a turn at being the thruster, Thor was already dreaming of the next time he would enter his brother's luscious body. _

Remembering that day, Thor was amazed at how little remorse he had actually felt. The guilt had come later, after being reminded by Loki time and again how shameful incest was. Of course, now they knew they were not related by blood; Thor wondered what would have happened if they had known all along. Would they have been allowed to pursue their lust for each other? He had thought, at the time, that he truly loved Loki; would Loki have returned that love as well? Would his exile from Asgard, meeting Jane, fighting the Chitauri on Midgard... would all that never have occurred?

Then another thought struck Thor like a thunderbolt, electrifying him where he lay. If Loki had not used his magic to clean himself of Thor's seed, he might have become pregnant with Thor's child. Thor himself might have been the father of Loki's baby, not Clint Barton.


	32. Chapter 32

When Clint had asked if he had warned Odin of Thanos' plans to attack Asgard and steal the weapons from the vault, Loki had answered by explaining that he knew nothing about Thanos that might help to resist him. However, when Clint insisted that "forewarned was forearmed," Loki compromised by promising to tell Queen Frigga. He did not want to waste any more time talking about Thanos, or anything else for that matter – his time on Midgard was precious, and he wanted to spend as much of it as possible joined to Clint's body.

Clint seemed satisfied by his promise, but instead of deepening the kiss Loki had initiated, he suddenly got out of bed and went to the door.

"Clint?" Loki called, shocked and concerned.

"Just checking to see if the Captain stopped by yet," Clint reassured him. Opening the door, he retrieved the grocery bag that had been hanging on the doorknob. "Yup. I figured."

Loki sat up in bed and watched curiously as Clint returned to him, looking through the selection of flavors.

"Here, try this one," Clint said, handing him a package. Familiar with Midgardian food wrappings from his last stint, Loki tore the end open and bit the chocolate-colored confection. "What do you think?" the archer asked.

"It's sweet," Loki said, "but I prefer the chocolate you bought for me in Geneva."

"Well yeah, that was the good stuff," Clint admitted. "I don't think I can find anything half as good around here. Let me make you some coffee, at least; there should be a coffeepot in here somewhere..."

Loki continued chewing small bites, having realized that he was hungry after all. And watching Clint rummage through the cupboards of the kitchenette, searching for the coffeepot – doing it for _him_ – was gratifying. A minute later Clint pulled out a water heating pot and, with a grin of triumph, a box of decaffeinated teabags. Loki smiled back as his lover set about brewing it for him. It felt wonderfully domestic, even idyllic, to have Clint fussing over him and worrying about the baby's nutrition. Almost as though they were a real family.

Loki could not help thinking of his cell on Asgard as he looked around the room, which was slightly larger and more comfortably furnished, even if those furnishings were square and utilitarian. The kitchenette was small but functional, and the bathroom behind it was also small but adequate. Most importantly, the walls were solid, affording privacy (or at least so Loki thought). The most wearisome thing about his cell was that it was a fishbowl in effect; all of his "friends," as he called the prisoners in the neighboring cells, as well as the guards could look in and watch him at any moment of the day or night. Even masturbating had to be done by stealth under the bedcovers if he did not want an audience.

The part he hated most was showering. As fastidious as Loki was, he had opted to clean himself by magic on most days, since the corner of his cell that converted into a shower was directly across the hallway from a Nidavellian Dwarf who had been imprisoned for raping and murdering countless young Dwarves. The first time Loki had showered, he had turned to see the Dwarf leering at him, pulling on his thick, grotesque cock in obvious pleasure. Feeling nauseated, Loki had managed to put up a curtain of steam to obscure himself from the lecherous observer, but since then he had tried to shower when the Dwarf was asleep. At least when using the privy, he was allowed to use a curtain.

When Clint brought him a steaming mug of tea to wash down the sticky-sweet bar, then settled into bed beside him with an arm around Loki's waist, the trickster god thought how infinitely better this was than his cell. Seeing his wistful smile, Clint drew even closer to kiss his cheek.

"Penny for your thoughts," he remarked.

Loki took another sip of tea before replying. "I was just thinking... how nice it would be... if I could stay here forever." His lips quirked in an attempt to smile that failed. "Even if I never stepped foot outside of this room, if I could be with you... I would be happy."

Clint gazed at him for a moment before leaning his forehead against his lover's. "It grates on you... being locked up, doesn't it?"

Loki snorted in lieu of a laugh. "Actually, no – I have everything I need, Mother brings me plenty of books to read, and I prefer my own company to that of idiotic Æsir warriors. But my cell... the walls are transparent, so anybody can look in. I feel like some rare monster put on exhibit for all to see... much like the beasts in your Midgardian zoos." Loki waved a hand at their surroundings. "This... could be made very comfortable with a few improvements. But best of all, it affords us privacy – we could make love all night if we wished to."

Loki directed a coy smirk at Clint, which the other man correctly interpreted to be an invitation. While Loki set his half-empty mug of tea on the bedside table, Clint crawled down under the covers to start licking and sucking Loki's lengthening cock.

* * *

Nick Fury, observing and listening from the control room, felt no remorse for spying on them – only mild relief that the manacles on Loki's wrists appeared to be functioning as intended. He glanced at a smaller monitor to the side which showed an angled view of a bed in another bedroom: Steve Rogers' bedroom, where he and Dr. Bruce Banner were engaged in their own passionate lovemaking. Fury huffed. He hoped those pheromones weren't catching, but he was also tempted to have the facility's water supply tested. At least Tony Stark had finally fallen asleep in the lab with his feet propped up on a desk, after he had tinkered around for hours.

Little did Fury know that Tony had hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s surveillance system again and was simply watching the live feed from Loki's room. Tony found the two lovers' heart-to-heart talks boring, but he did take note of Loki's comments regarding Thanos. He wondered if he could create a weapon using flerovium as Frigga had suggested; he wondered more whether such a weapon would be of any use against a being so powerful that even Loki feared him, but he was determined to at least try.

* * *

Thor stepped out into the small back yard of Jane's apartment, having left her sleeping peacefully in bed. He needed to clear his thoughts, to sort through his complicated feelings for Loki. He had long denied having any untoward desires for his brother, telling himself his affection was purely fraternal, but after sensing such strong jealousy within himself over how Clint Barton was relating to Loki, Thor had to admit that he was, at least in part, still in love with the mischievous demigod.

The realization that he might have fathered a child with Loki – that in fact it had been a very close thing – gave him pause. If Loki had not been so thorough in cleaning up his seed after their coupling, or if they had not been found out and had continued to mate without knowing the potential hidden in Loki's body, eventually Loki would have become pregnant with Thor's child. Would Odin have revealed the truth of Loki's parentage then? Would the All-Father have allowed his two boys to continue what had started as an incestuous relationship – perhaps even allowed them to marry? Thor sighed. It was all useless conjecture now, but he could not stop his racing mind or even change its direction.

He imagined what it might have been like to have Loki as his lover – openly, without shame, for all of Asgard to see. Loki's clever tongue had grown sharper towards Thor after Odin had forbidden them from coupling with each other; Thor had always assumed it was because he had shamed his brother in the eyes of their father and that Loki was angry with him for having continually pressured him to give in to his lust. If Odin had not berated them like he had, shouting how disgusted and disappointed he was in them, would Loki not have grown so bitter and distant? If he had known that what they had done was _not_ shameful, and if it had _not_ lessened their father's opinion of them, would he have embraced Thor's love, perhaps, and consented to be his consort? Might he have grown up to be a happier man?

"_We were yet so very young,"_ Thor thought. How would Loki have reacted to the news that he was pregnant? He had been shocked enough to hear it when he had; how much worse would it have been back then, when he was still a young boy – when he also would have been told, for the first time, that he was Jötun? The fact that he was adopted would have been welcome news to Thor, for it meant they had not committed true incest, but for Loki it would have been devastating.

"I would have helped him through it," Thor mumbled to himself. "I would have let him know... he was not alone..."

The thunder god was startled when Jane plopped down beside him.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

"No," Thor replied.

"What's the matter?"

"I was thinking... of all the different paths our lives might have taken." He looked up at the unfamiliar Midgardian stars. "Only a few steps to one side or the other, a few choices made differently, and the outcome might have been... worlds apart."

"_If I had not angered Loki with my recklessness,"_ he added to himself, _"he would not have disrupted my coronation... I would not have attacked Jötunheim... I would not have been exiled. I would not have met Jane."_

"Well, I'm sorry I hit you with my truck... twice," Jane told him, "but I'm still glad we met."

Thor smiled at her and curled an arm around her shoulders. He had to agree, but he also had to acknowledge that he wished he could have known Loki as he might have been in a happier life.


	33. Chapter 33

Loki took a drink of his cooled tea as he watched Clint sleep. His human lover had finally succumbed to exhaustion after another round of lovemaking and was sprawled spread-eagle on the bed, snoring. Loki did not mind; there was enough room for him to curl up against the other man's chest if he wanted to, and Clint's snores were not loud compared to Volstagg's or even Thor's. But Loki simply could not bear to sleep when his time outside of the cell was so limited – even carding his fingers through Clint's short hair was a privilege the demigod did not take for granted.

Loki still felt as though he were in a dream. To have Clint offering his support and companionship felt unnatural somehow, especially when Loki remembered how the archer had turned his deadly aim upon him. Even when Loki had been forced to surrender in Stark's ruined penthouse suite, Clint had kept an arrow trained upon his forehead, ready to release it if the trickster god made a threatening move. Loki knew he had lost his general and lover the moment their connection was broken, but he felt the pang of loss more acutely when he had seen Clint's keen eyes glaring at him, all remembrance of their time together erased. It had driven home the realization that he had lost – lost not only the battle but also everything he had held dear.

And yet, against all odds and even defying reason, Clint had embraced him upon hearing the news of their child. Although Loki was certain the man had felt attracted to him right from the start, that alone could not explain Clint's sudden acceptance of him as a lover again. The child was not motivation enough, either, so it had to be something else.

As he sat there, observing Clint's peaceful face, Loki remembered what the chief healer had mentioned after examining his alien body, something he had overheard while his mind was still numb with shock: his pheromone emissions were extremely high, much higher than anything she had ever encountered before.

Such a high level of pheromones, Loki knew, would incite an Æsir male to mate senselessly if exposed to it for a long time; a mortal man would be driven mad with desire... just as Clint had been since their reunion... just as he had been during their original time together. With cold dread pooling in the pit of his stomach, Loki realized that all their passionate lovemaking might have been triggered by something as simple as chemistry – and nothing more.

Bowing his head in anguish, Loki struggled to breathe. The healer had not been able to tell Frigga whether his body was constantly emitting pheromones at that level or only when his body was fertile. Either way, he realized, it could have been the reason Thor had lusted after him so irresistibly in their youth. It would explain why, after they had been discovered and chastened by their father, Thor had grown disinterested in Loki just as suddenly – they had ceased to spend time together, so the effect of the pheromones had worn off. What Thor had declared as his love for Loki had been nothing more than chemically induced lust.

Loki's eyes flooded with tears and he cursed the hormones now raging through his body, amplifying his emotions a hundredfold. His quick mind raced ahead to when he would be locked in the cell again, quarantined from the rest of the world. He knew the same change in attitude would happen with Clint. Separated from Loki's overwhelming pheromones, the man would cease to feel any desire for him and begin to look for another lover. After all, Loki would not even be able to touch him, let alone offer his body to satisfy Clint's natural needs – why would Clint continue to remain faithful to him then?

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Loki tried to stifle the sobs that wracked his body. Clint was leaving his friends, his work, and his entire world behind to be close to Loki and the baby; when the madness brought on by Loki's pheromones subsided and his supposed love for Loki cooled, he might regret having made that decision. Especially if he found out that he had made it while under the influence of such powerful chemical urges. And if he realized that Loki had known about it all along...

"_He will hate me for certain,"_ Loki told himself. _"What little affection he might yet have for me will be obliterated by rage."_

Loki understood well the kind of hatred secrets could engender, having had his own sense of self shattered by Odin's revelation. The knowledge that he was Jötun had been devastating enough; but to find that his supposed parents had kept that knowledge from him made him feel betrayed and disparaged – as though he were a child or, worse yet, a _creature_ incapable of comprehending it. He could not trust anyone, not even the woman he had regarded as his mother, anymore. It had been a dark and lonely path since then, and at times Loki wondered if, when he had cast himself into the Void, a piece of the Void might have lodged itself permanently into his soul. Clint Barton had been the first person in whom Loki had willingly confided some of his thoughts, even if not all of them.

"_When he returns to his senses, he will no longer love me... but I cannot bear to have him hate me,"_ Loki realized. _"At least if I tell him now, he may retain some kindness for me... he may still wish to be a father to the child and, possibly, help me for the child's sake. Perhaps he would be willing to stay in Asgard until the child is born if I told him it would ease my mind... that it would be helpful for the _baby's_ health. Just a few months until the child is born... although it may seem like an eternity for a mortal..."_

Loki drew in a shuddering breath. He did not know how he could survive the ordeal alone, despite having steeled himself to do so already; now that he had envisioned having Clint beside him as a partner in the process, it was untenable to imagine going through it without him. It was as though he had been given a glimmer of hope only to have it ripped from his hands before he could fully appreciate it. But he had a limited window of time in which to inform Clint – once they left Midgard, telling him would not spare Loki from his wrath.

"_It would have to be enough in advance that he could... choose to remain on Midgard instead."_ The thought squeezed at Loki's heart, forcing more tears from his eyes. _"But I can wait yet... wait until Thor is on his way back here... or until he is close..."_ He would wait as long as he could, enjoying the precious hours, minutes, and seconds of Clint's undivided and unreserved attentions. It was the best he could do. It would have to do.

Loki sniffed hard, wishing he could use his powers to summon Frigga's handkerchief from his robe pocket. He nearly jumped out of his skin, however – sloshing what remained of his tea – when he felt a hand touch his waist.

"Easy," Clint said, his voice thick with sleep. When Loki turned his startled face to him, Clint's eyes widened and he sat up quickly, reaching with both hands for Loki. "What's the matter, Baby? What's wrong?"

"Wh-What? N-Nothing," Loki stammered, then realized how pitiful a lie it was since his cheeks were still wet with tears. No doubt his eyes were red as well.

"Don't give me that," Clint chided, but his tone was concerned as he wrapped his arms around Loki's naked body. "Tell me what's bothering you. Come here, Baby – tell me everything."

Loki could almost see the last few blissful moments with his lover being cut short, but there was no getting around it now. He simply did not have the wherewithal to deceive Clint; and, strangely, did he want to either.

"I... I must tell you something," he began, already aching for his loss. The only thing that kept him going was the specter of Clint angry with him – pointing his crossbow at him. "All of this... it's not _real_."

"_What?_" Clint responded, squinting at him in confusion.

"What you think you feel toward me," Loki clarified, "is not true. It's... caused by my pheromones. I'm emitting an extraordinarily high amount, which makes you want to mate with me, but... once I'm returned to my cell, you will no longer be influenced by it. You will realize then that... all this... was just your body's response to... natural chemical triggers."

Clint blinked a couple of times, processing this news. "Okay... So what?"

Loki swallowed and focused on the mug in his hands. "So... I thought you should know about it... before you left your world. Once you return to your senses, you may regret having moved to Asgard. I would rather you make an informed decision... understand what is happening here."

"I understand that your pheromones are what turned me into a horny sex addict all of a sudden," Clint replied, "which is actually a relief – I was wondering if there was something wrong with me. It sure explains the marathon sex sessions. Damn, I've been feeling like a teenager again!" Clint lifted Loki's chin, forcing him to look at him. "That's not a _bad_ thing, you know. In fact I've been enjoying every minute of it."

Loki's lips twitched, attempting to smirk, but he needed to impress upon his lover the gravity of the situation. "While I don't doubt that, I must remind you... once in Asgard, I will not be allowed any conjugal visits. Your sex drive should abate as well, but... you should reconsider your decision to move there in light of that."

"Why?" Clint countered. "I'm going there to be with you and the kid – I already knew we probably wouldn't get to sleep together. I'm glad that I won't be tempted to hump the railings on your cell or anything, but why _wouldn't_ I want to go?"

Loki gaped at him for a moment, wishing it were as simple as that.

"Because you don't really love me, Clint – you only _think_ you do. And while I... appreciate your offer to be by my side until the child is born, you may come to find it... tedious and... a poor use of your time."

Comprehension dawned in the human's eyes, making Loki feel some relief at having gotten through to him. But he was shocked by Clint's next statement.

"Oh, Loki," Clint sighed, holding him even closer. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?"


	34. Chapter 34

Clint understood well enough what pheromones were, and he was honestly glad to know they were the reason why he had been so horny around Loki; however, he also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loved Loki. Just the sight of his red-rimmed, teary eyes made Clint feel actual physical pain, and to see Loki's delicate nose turned pink from crying made his insides churn in a roiling knot.

"Come here, Baby," he soothed, lifting Loki's long legs to one side so he was sitting between Clint's thighs, cradled by his arms. "Oh, Baby... Oh, Loki," Clint whispered, kissing away the wet traces on his cheeks. "You have no idea how much I love you. And it's not just the pheromones talking either."

"That's _exactly_ what the pheromones would make you think," Loki protested, although he did not resist what Clint was doing. In fact he set his almost empty mug on the bedside table so he could nestle against Clint's body more comfortably.

"No, I mean it. Just think about it," Clint began. "When I got snapped out of your spell, my first response was to try to kill you, right? So obviously I wasn't suffering from Stockholm Syndrome or anything like that." In answer to Loki's perplexed expression, he explained, "It's a thing where people – or at least Humans – start identifying with their kidnapper, even thinking they're in love with them. Don't ask me how it works, but anyway, I know I didn't have it. I hated your guts back then."

"Of course," Loki faintly replied, "you were not feeling the effects of the pheromones at that time."

Clint kissed him and forced him to meet his gaze before continuing.

"The important thing is, _after_ I started digging around for my memories, reliving what we'd done together, I realized that I'd fallen for you. Hard. Because in spite of everything you'd done to me – as well as to my world – I couldn't stop thinking about you. And when I got that one memory unblocked and remembered what you'd gone through... _why_ you were doing what you were doing, I knew my instincts hadn't been wrong. You'd gotten under my skin, Loki, and that's a hard thing to do... for anyone. You can't just wave a magic wand at someone and make them fall in love; God knows I would be the last guy to fall for a trick like that. No, I'd spent enough time with you to get a feel for who you really are... and _that_ was the Loki I'd fallen for."

There was a glimmer, the barest hint of hope in Loki's sea-green eyes. Clint tried to encourage it with another kiss, stroking Loki's cool skin with wide open palms as though to warm him. When their mouths parted, Loki was looking at him hungrily, his lips open as though poised to say something but he didn't know what.

"When I realized how I felt about you," Clint told him, "I wished I could have done it all over again with my head screwed on straight. Of course I wouldn't have helped you take over my world, but... maybe I could have helped you make a plan against the Chitauri or something. I sure as hell would have been a better partner for you if I'd been aware of what I was doing, not just a robot taking orders. And I know what you're going to say: that I only _thought_ I loved you because you forced me to, but that doesn't explain how much I missed you afterwards, does it? Because _yeah_, I missed you! After I got over the hurt and anger and confusion, I fucking _missed_ you. And... I worried about you. I thought how lonely you must be, locked up all alone in prison, and wished I could at least visit you. But you were a whole world away."

Clint grasped Loki's shoulders and gave him a little shake.

"Do you get it? I was missing you when you were _locked up on Asgard_. When your damn pheromones couldn't possibly have affected me because you weren't even on the same fucking _planet_. I wanted to see you, to talk with you, to make sure you were all right, even after everything you'd done, because I... I couldn't _help_ it. I couldn't stop caring about what happened to you because I _love_ you. And that's not something you can _make_ me feel – I don't care how many pheromones you throw at me!"

Loki hardly realized that he was weeping, his tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes as he stared at Clint, stunned. The Human's logical reasoning had startled Loki, forcing him to accept that perhaps Clint was right in his assertions – that he really _had_ come to love Loki without the influence of his pheromones.

"Damn it all, Loki, I missed doing stuff with you, and I don't mean just sex," Clint said. "Remember when we went clothes shopping in Milan? At the first place you pretended to be some rich entrepreneur and I was your bodyguard, but then at the second place you told me to act like a rich dude who was paying for everything and you were my boy toy. That was _fun_. _You_ were fun. And although world domination isn't something I'd care to put on my resume, we made a damn good team." Pulling Loki in close, Clint pressed their foreheads together before stating, "It's like we were _meant_ for each other. I felt lost – literally _lost_ – once I'd sorted through my scrambled head, because I thought I'd never see you again. When they told me a group was coming from Asgard and wanted me to be here, I was hoping to get some news about you, even if it was just a little scrap of information; I didn't expect you to be coming with them in a million years. But now you're here, and you're carrying my baby, and I've got a chance to be with you again. Maybe it's not an ideal situation, but I still have another chance... so hell yeah, I'm gonna take it! Because I know this is worth the effort – it's worth fighting for. You and me, Loki... we've been given another chance, and this time I want to do it right."

Loki was trembling as he sobbed, his sight blurred and watery, but he clung to Clint as though he were the only thing tethering his soul from falling into the Void again. And Clint held him tightly, holding him chains and all against his chest as he murmured into Loki's disheveled hair.

"The fact that you're pregnant with my kid... is like proof that we're meant to be together... like this was _meant_ to happen. I mean, how many guys do you know have gotten pregnant? Maybe it's a common thing for your people, but it sure as hell isn't for us. So this baby is nothing short of a miracle... He's a miracle baby that's giving us a second chance."

Loki wept on Clint's shoulder then without holding back or feeling self-conscious. He needed Clint so much... needed his reassuring voice, his comforting embrace, his warm and accepting presence. Clint's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, massaging his back, rubbing his protruding stomach, and wiping away his tears, and Loki was grateful for every little bit of it. When the tempest of his emotions had calmed, Clint's shoulder was glistening wet but the man gazed steadily at Loki as though nothing else in the world mattered to him.

"You done, Baby?" Clint asked, his tone still gentle. "'Cuz I don't want to hear any more of this crazy talk about pheromones being the only reason I love you, all right?"

Loki nodded and gulped, but something was nagging at the back of his mind.

"What?" Clint demanded, seeing the question in his lover's eyes.

"I... I was just... wondering," Loki said, then paused to sniff, "why you keep calling me... as though you're... talking to the child."

Clint had to think for a moment to understand what Loki was saying. "Oh! You mean 'Baby'? That's just a... a term of endearment. I guess you don't say that in Asgard, huh?"

Loki shook his head slightly. Clint chuckled at himself before kissing Loki on the tip of his nose.

"Well, it's just an expression. It felt like it fit... because you are, you know – my 'Baby.' The kid is 'the Kid,'" he explained, touching the baby bump, "and he's _ours_, but you're my 'Baby'... because you're all _mine_."

"All yours..." Loki echoed, his face full of wonder.

"Yeah. All mine," Clint reaffirmed, squeezing him close for a moment. "And don't you forget it!"

When Loki's thin shoulders began shaking with sobs once more, Clint petted him again, stroking his hair and placing tender kisses wherever he could. Loki leaned into him, absorbing his affection as dry land would the rain. Clint reached over to grab the tissue box on the bedside table and offered it to Loki.

"Damn hormones," Loki mumbled as he took a handful to wipe his face. Clint laughed, knowing that his lover had learned to swear from him.

"Well, my hormones – and probably your pheromones – are telling me to fuck you," he informed Loki, "but that's not what I'm gonna do." Clint cupped Loki's face in both hands and studied it like a priceless work of art. "I'm gonna make love to you, Baby, for as long as I can."

As Clint claimed his lips in a searing kiss, Loki's heart was filled with nothing but joy.


End file.
